My Dark Restless Dreams: A novel based on Silent Hill 2
by Gregory S John
Summary: A full length novel of James Sunderland's hellish journey through the town of Silent Hill. Filled with the notion that his late and beloved wife could miraculously be alive, James is drawn to Silent Hill by a mysterious letter in her handwriting. (Please post reviews!)
1. Prologue and Chapt 1: A Nightmare Begins

**My Dark Restless Dreams**

A novel based on "Silent Hill 2" By Gregory S John

"... the only things that are judged and burned in Silent Hill are the parts of your life you won't let go. Your memories, your attachments, your regrets and sins; they are all judged and burned away in this realm. But that doesn't have to be the end. So if you're afraid of facing your judgment and are holding on to the parts that are being burned; you'll see devils trying to tear everything away from you. But, if you've accepted the truth and made peace with your judgment than these devils become angels, freeing you from your pain."

-Ernest from My Dark Restless Dreams

_James,_  
_ In my dark restless dreams, I see that town, Silent Hill._  
_You promised me you'd take me there again someday._  
_But you never did. Well, I'm alone there now..._  
_In our "special place"... Waiting for you..._

**INTRODUCTION:**

Three years ago, James, a proud and loving husband, found his life terribly shattered when his wife Mary was stricken with a fatal disease. Although desperately ill his beloved wife longed to return to the vacation spot of their youth nestled in the sleepy little resort town of Silent Hill. Consuming her quickly the disease prevented any chance of that visit, leaving James alone and beside himself with grief.

Since that time, James has spent much of his time trying to forget, and learning to accept his great loss, just as most people would expect of a deeply grieved husband. However, something inside of him won't let go of her, the person he loved so deeply gone forever, and for James there may never be a way to move on.  
Now, James has received a disturbing letter. On the outside is simply written, "Mary." The message chills James to the very core, for it seems to be written in Mary's own handwriting.

As insane as it seems, James is filled with the notion that the one true love of his life could be alive and awaiting him in Silent Hill. Grief, of course, will cause the most rational of people to cling to irrational hope. So hopping into his old Dodge sedan, he drives until he reaches a dead-end just a few miles south of the town. From there, he must walk into the neighborhood. Seeking a reunion with a loved one thought lost, James might instead find damnation and retribution...

**PROLOGUE:**

James stared dumbfounded at his feet.

"Mr. Sunderland?" A voice asked him "Do you understand what I just explained to you?"

A cold chill ran up James's spine, and he began to tingle all over. He paused for a moment then responded in a low hoarse voice.

"You must be mistaken. M,my wife has never even had the chicken pox. You should run some more tests."

A doctor in a white coat fiddled uncomfortably with his name tag and leaned back in a finely leathered chair.

"Mr. Sunderland, I know this is extremely difficult. But we must start treatment immediately."

James eyes fixed on the floor, he didn't speak.

The doctor riffled through an open drawer on his desk.

"I'll need you to sign some papers and then you'll have to work out your insurance coverage with the billing department... Mr. Sunderland, do you understand what I just said?"

"Mr. Sunderland?"

"MR. SUNDERLAND?"

A loud clap of thunder jolted James Sunderland out of a deep sleep. He sat up in his plush blue lounge chair, and tossed the light green blanket off of him. Mumbling a few curse words he sat up, throwing the lever on the side, lowering the leg rest. He stared out the window, it was late, or early, either way it was raining hard. He paused smelling the air. It smelled like her; that sweet mixture of fabric softener and subtle hint of perfume. He glanced down at the blanket lying on the floor, picking it up he raised it to his face and inhaled deeply. It still smelled like her after all these years.

He still felt a little tightness in his head; those pills the doctor had given him seemed to be wearing off. He reached over to the lamp stand next to him, an open bottle of prescription pills stood on top of a few pieces of paper.

"I take these pills every day, and every day just seems longer and longer." James thought "I wonder what day it even is."

Grabbing the bottle of pills, he dumped a few into his large hands. Glancing at them for a moment carefully contemplating the events of the day, he hurls them across the room with a deep frown.

"What the hell good are these pills if I can't remember a damn thing?"

James laid his eyes upon the pieces of paper lying on the lamp stand, previously covered by the now discarded bottle. One was folded neatly in threes and rested next to an opened envelope. James paused momentarily, staring at it. Slowly he carefully picked up the letter and began to read it once more.

"This has to be some sick joke", he thought. "But who would do such a thing. Still there's no denying that this was Mary's writing. But she died three years ago when that damned illness took her." James checked the postmark on the envelope; it was postmarked three days ago.

"This can't be right. I'm not...crazy, am I?"

His mind wandered back to the town of Silent Hill; the place where Mary and James had honeymooned ten years ago. It was such a peaceful and relaxing resort. He recalled how much Mary loved it there, and had considered having her buried in that town.

"No, she's dead." James reminded himself shaking his groggy head. "Still" he reasoned "someone was behind this letter, and I'm going to find out who." Perhaps this person was indeed waiting for him in Silent Hill, and maybe perhaps as insane as it may sound, perhaps Mary was waiting for him there too.

James rose slowly from his chair. Pulled on his boots, grabbed a Pepsi from the fridge. On the kitchen table several items were laid out. An old tourist map of Silent Hill, a battery powered pocket radio, and a road map. Finishing his drink, James threw on his dark green jacket and grabbed his keys. It was a long eight hour drive to Silent Hill.

**CHAPTER 1 A Nightmare Begins**

James Sunderland pulled his dodge to a complete stop.

"Crap!" He growled under his breath.

"So the old guy at the gas station was right." James thought to himself. "The overpass has been closed off." His mind wandered back to the earlier conversation, a half hour down the winding wooded road.

James exited his vehicle and slowly stood up, stretching. He took a close look at the overpass which ran down into the valley where the former resort town of Silent Hill stood. Boards and caution signs covered the entryway, it was impassible. James shook his head, thinking back to his conversation at the gas station 15 minutes ago.

"This can't be possible. Ten years ago Silent Hill was a bustling lakeside community." Carefully observing the situation, James noticed a large sign off to the side of the road.

SILENT HILL UNDER REMODLING/CLOSED FOR SEASON

The sign was dated three years ago. "That was the same day when Mary died." James thought to himself as a cold disconcerting chill ran up his spine. "Is this just a crazy coincidence?" He looked over his shoulder. Behind him, about 50 yards way, was a small rest stop, now like everything else on this road abandoned.

Carefully parking his car, James began to make his way towards the old dirt covered building. He noticed a light fog rolling in. "Hopefully there's a restroom there."

Winding his way around the side he found some rust covered and dented restroom doors, James carefully entered closing his eyes and remembering how this place used to be. However now, a few broken windows provided enough light so that he could make full use of the urinals. They didn't flush. The place was musty, bird droppings and mud covered the old tile floor. The mirrors above the old clogged sinks were cracked and chipped, smeared with dried dirt from the years of neglect. This place was nothing like how it was when he and Mary had stopped here a decade ago, James observed.

James stopped and glanced at himself in the dirty old mirror, he rubbed his face and eyes, they were deep and dark. "Mary could you really be in this town?" He exited the restroom and pulled out his old tourist map of Silent Hill, he studied it carefully for many minutes.

"There must be another way in." He thought. He noticed a small hiking trail that led from the east side of town through some of the old farmlands surrounding the valley and ending in an abandoned park nearby. He took careful note of the route before folding the map and placing it back in his pants pocket. "Well looks like my only way in."

James gathered up his provisions. The battery powered radio, his Silent Hill map, a pocket flashlight, and a photo of Mary. He stood over a large embankment near his car that ran down into Lake Toluca, gazing down into the lush countryside, it was an overcast day. From his vantage point James could just make out the run down pavilions of the park nearby where the trail supposedly began. Taking a deep breath James began his walk towards the trail that would hopefully lead him towards some answers.

The trail from the park was winding and long, dirt and gravel covered by fallen autumn leaves dominated the pathway. Sparse trees and rolling hills surrounded him as James made his way down towards Lake Toluca. The weather was getting colder, and the fog began to rise becoming dense and thick. It rolled quickly as James made his way through the lonely countryside, consuming all but thirty feet of vision in front of him. The thickness of this strange fog dampened the ambient sound around him, and all James could hear was the soft yet determined crunch of his own footsteps. It was still late afternoon, but the sun seemed to be swallowed up by the overcast sky and dense mist.

As James made his way through the long desolate trail, remnants of old human inhabitation dotted the path. Here and there he would make out the shape of an old rusted wheelbarrow long since abandoned and forgotten, or an old rotted shed half fallen in on itself covered in weeds and vines. He passed an old stone well with an ancient timber crank, a few ruins of a broken stone fence made its feint presence known above the mossy earth slowly devouring it.

The fog became denser as he moved further down the trail. James stopped for a moment checking his map, suddenly spinning around, the sound of rushing footsteps filling his ears. He froze listening intently to the sounds around him, the footsteps becoming louder and faster... then stopping. James squinted his eyes, making out any strange shapes that might appear in the thick fog surrounding him.

Nothing. A bit rattled, he slowly turned around and began to make his way down the overgrown path once more. Moving down the endless trail, he would on occasion hear those footsteps closing in, each time stopping to scan the length of his vision. Always, nothing. He wandered further, seemingly growing farther from the comfort of the abandoned highway and further into this surreal and lonesome country. James became accustomed to the startling noises around him, and could swear he heard the faint gurgled noises of growling shadows. The hairs on his neck would stand up. But always as he paused to anxiously search around him, nothing. He picked up his pace.

James stayed in deep thought, taking his mind off of the strange sounds around him. "Our 'special place'... What could she mean? This whole town was our special place. Does she mean the park on the lake? We spent the whole day there. Just the two of us, staring at the water."

Drifting off to the day long ago spent at the lakeside park, long lost memories were all he had to keep him company. "We spent all day there, just you and me. You were so beautiful, full of life." James paused once more checking the old tourist map. He was still quite a distance from the town. Carefully observing it, scanning the borders of Lake Toluca for the old park he and Mary had visited so long ago; he fixed his stern gaze on the only lakeside park marked on his crinkled tourist map.

"Rosewater Park. So that's what it was called. It was so long ago, I never even bothered to remember its name. Could Mary really be there? Is she really alive...waiting for me?" A tired sigh escaped from James' lips. "It isn't sane. But still I have to know for sure... I have to know I'm not crazy." Gently refolding his map, James continued on his endless trek through the countryside.

Rising out from the mist, materializing like a ghost, a large dark image slowly came into focus as James continued on his journey. It was a structure, and ancient structure made of stone and brick. A large rotted wooden cross hung over a dilapidated doorway. The path ran right past it. Carefully concealed under years of vines and foliage a faded sign read. "First Methodist Church of the Brethren. Established 1874. Restored 1969 by Silent Hill Historical Society."

James stared at if reflectively for a moment before continuing once again. He furrowed his brow fighting back an intense angst ridden sneer. "Where was God when that disease took Mary? No one should have to die like that, wasting away to nothing. Losing everything, your strength your will to live, your dignity, while having loved ones watch you dissolve right before their eyes. Having them see you're bitter last days of struggle and anger...until... People don't go quietly and peacefully like they show in the movies, Mary's last days were tormenting.". He paused. "There is no God, or one that is worth worshiping anyway..."

This time the path lead him straight past the church and into an old week covered cemetery. James glanced nervously around. "This can't be right? Did I make a wrong turn somewhere?" James slowed his pace down searching the length of his oppressed vision trying to make out the path he must have lost. He walked in circles searching for the edges of the cemetery, the fog now obscuring any vision longer than twenty feet. But all he could see was the mildewed remains of gravestones.  
James spun back around almost tripping himself; the sound of a feint whimper filling his ears. For a moment he stood completely still, uneasy. Cautiously he approached the direction where he had heard the sound. Coming into focus was the silhouetted of a person kneeling on the ground. He had to move in quite close to gain a decent perspective. It was a young woman; in dirty jeans and an old sweater she had her back to James.

"Excuse me, I..."

Startled a loud shrill gasp leapt from her mouth. James carefully picked out the feint flash of a metal instrument in her hands, and backed slowly away.  
Pausing, the young woman shyly fixed her eyes up at James.

"I, I'm sorry ...I, I... was just.."

Ignoring the hand James offered her, the young woman quickly hopped to her feet, James studied her carefully. "No, it's okay. I didn't mean to scare you. I just thought you could help me, I'm kind of lost."

"Lost?" The woman responded flashing an odd glance at James.

"Yeah. I'm looking for Silent Hill. Is this the right way?"

"Um, yeah... It's hard to see with this fog, but there's only the one road. You can't miss it."

"Thanks." James turned to go.

"But..."

"Yes?" James paused

"I think you'd better stay away. This uh...this town... there's something... 'wrong' with it. It's kind of hard to explain but..."  
James waved his hand dismissively "Okay, I got it. I'll be careful."

"I'm not lying!"

James glanced at the young woman. "No, I believe you. It's just... I guess I really don't care if it's dangerous or not. I'm going to town either way."

"But why?"

"I'm looking for... someone."

"Who, who, who is it?" The young woman shifted uncomfortably.

"Someone... very important to me. I'd do anything if I could be with her again."

The young woman turned away gazing into the distance. "Me too, I'm looking for my momma... I mean my mother. It's been so long since I've seen her. I thought my father and brother were here, but I can't find them either... "Raising her hands to her face she paused. "I'm sorry... it's not your problem."

Looking around him at the neatly lined stones, James wondered if the strange woman was looking in the town or in the cemetery for her family.

"No, I...I hope you find them."

"Yeah, you too."

James walked away, glancing over his shoulder at the strange woman, she stood there staring into the distance, until finally his vision failed him and her image was swallowed up by the dense fog once more.

After a few moments James found the exit out of the back of the cemetery and the path continued from there.

James sat down on an old rusted bench, breathing heavily. He had walked quite a distance to get here. Amazed James marveled at how totally abandoned the town seemed. Not a shred of life anywhere. The stores were run down and boarded up, the houses where empty and weeds were sprouting out of the cracks in the street pavement. A heavy scent of musty earth hung in the air. The fog was as dense as ever.  
He leaned back and rubbed his eyes, his legs were sore from his long hike. Fixing on strange smears, barley visible, at the intersection ahead, James furrowed his brow. Curiously he made his way toward the marks.

"Blood? Is this blood?"

Kneeling down James dipped his finger in the asphalts thin crimson streak. A dark figure moving away down the street, disappearing into the mist, caught the attention of James' stern eyes. Startled he froze a cold chill running down his spine.

"That shadow..."

Cautiously James began to move towards the direction in which the dark figure vanished.

Following the mysterious dark figure down several abandoned blocks, James eventually came upon a blocked exit, long boarded up. Stepping through several lose boards, James glanced with caution. "That shadow came here, to this old boarded up underpass. But there is no sign of anyone.' James shined his flashlight around in the shadows, to the right and to the left. Right next to him the beam came to rest on a slumped image leaning against the side of the brick underpass. The body of a man most likely in his late twenties to early thirties. Blood splattered across the wall behind him.

James grimaced. "My god... who could've done this.." Blaring loud and hoarse James's pocket radio flared up with white noise, startling him. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled it out carefully studying it. "I thought I had this thing turned off"

A slight movement caught his eye; he glanced up as the terrifyingly close sound of a gurgled growl filled his ears. James jumped backwards tripping over an old tool box dropping the flashlight and the radio. The flashlight hit the ground spinning in rapid circles flashing a bright streak across the darkened underpass. In the corner of the narrow closed off chamber, in between spins of light, for an instant at a time, James could make out the image of a featureless black figure, stumbling towards him. His eyes wide in shock, James reached behind him for anything he could grab. His fist closed around an old wooden plank.

Moving awkwardly to his feet, James looked up and was eye to eye with this monstrosity. It had no face, no arms, and stumbled about on two legs. Its mottled black skin stretched tightly over its torso, giving the illusion that its upper limbs were tightly bound within thrashing about. James froze with fear, the thing spewed out a mist from a small mouth like opening on its head. It struck him in the face and burned, the smell was nauseating and James began to feel dizzy. Instinctively, James began to wail away with his makeshift weapon, half blinded James made impact with anything in range. Finally the sensation of impacting on flesh, directed James to the correct target.

With a rare savageness James never knew he had he beat the hideous monster to a bloody pulp. James stared at it, as thick pools of blood began gathering under the creature's broken carcass. James glanced at his arm; it was splattered with crimson fluid.

"Is it dead? What the hell is it? It's not human..."

Picking up his flashlight and wiping the blood off his sleeve, James quickly made his way out of the underpass. About to leave, the sound of static echoed once more through the underpass.

"Oh yeah, the radio... is it broken?"

Carefully fumbling through the darkness, James eventually found the source of the noise, while simultaneously avoiding the monsters oozing body. The radio still seemed to be functioning, after picking it up, giving it a good shake. For a brief moment the static cleared, and a barely audible voice could almost be made out.

Ja… I'm…e…Come…to…ak…el… … …ting… f… you Y… …d… you… c… Jam…

"What the...? I'd better keep it with me. I might need it."

Stumbling in a daze, James made his way out of the enclosed overpass. "The hell is going on in this place? I'd better get moving." Carefully and swiftly James made his way back to the main street of the lonely and deserted town. Always with his ears perched listening for those growling shadows, trembling slightly at the vaguest of shapes moving about in the dense fog. He gripped the wooden plank tightly.

Turning down one side-street; a small stone monument caught his eye. Cracked and badly scratched, only a portion of the engraving could be read.

"Remains of - Swamp  
The -ers of land surround-  
-i-s monument was orignally  
swamp, but was later fil-  
Fr-ng ago, t-s  
Nicknamed Blood Swamp because  
The -ers poured the wat-  
-sed to wash the ex-ols  
in here.  
Perhaps it's fo-hat  
Many pe-m to have s-  
-n the area.

"Blood Swamp?" James felt a cold chill run up and down his spine. "This area used to be a swamp? I don't recall seeing this here before, it looks pretty old."


	2. Chapter 2: Signs

CHAPTER 2: _**SIGNS**_

Shifting uncomfortably in the dusty air of an old boarded up store, James stared at the crinkled scrap of paper in his hand. The place stunk of mildew and the boards groaned painfully under his feet.

"Neely's bar...Well, who's waiting for me here?"

James glanced around at the empty room, paused, and then crunched the scrap of paper into a ball, tossing it aside.

"I gotta be outa my mind. This message probably belonged to somebody three years ago. Still, finding it so prominently displayed, almost as if it had been waiting for me, in that old construction trailer at the south side of Saul Street..."

James paused, something catching his attention out of the corner of his eye. A large bay window was covered with faded old newspaper, his eyes set on large crude letters seemingly spray painted onto the print.

"THERE WAS A HOLE HERE. IT'S GONE NOW."

James stared at the message, something seemed ominous about it, and he cringed. "A hole? Does this mean there was a "drinking hole" here, or an actual "hole in the ground"? Is someone trying to send me a message?

James found an old but sturdy stool, sat down, pulling out several other scraps of water-stained paper, hastily scribbled on. A few of them had obvious rust colored drops on them. James laid the heavy wooden plank onto the bars scarred surface, thick clotted blood oozed off it.

"This place... I don't understand. Where did these creatures come from? They seem to be everywhere. I can hear them in the distance, coming towards me. And that static, the radio, it always flares up when they come close.'

He began to carefully organize the other scraps of paper, preparing to pour over them once more.

_"__I'm going to write everything that I've learned so far. Maybe that will help you out somehow... If you're reading this it probably means I'm already dead, and you too are stuck in this cursed place."_

_"I saw those demons, they were there. Jim says he didn't see anything, how is that? Does that mean what I saw was only an illusion of some kind dreamed up in my mind? But whether that demon that ate human flesh was real or whether it was some kind of hallucination, one thing I know for sure is that I am truly beyond all hope."_

_"Those demons, it seems they're attracted to light. That must be why people who need light to see are their natural prey. They also react strongly to sound, just ask Jim, if you happen to see him, he disappeared a while back. I told him, if you want to stay living you'd be better off sitting in the dark and staying quiet. But in truth, even that may not save you for long..."_

_"There is something to this place. It knows me; I keep seeing myself everywhere I go. Who knows how long this town has been abandoned, but whatever evil force lives here is only growing stronger. I think I'm losing my mind, so this will be my last entry... I'm ending this nightmare. I have one bullet left..."_

James neatly folded the wrinkled scraps of paper and placed them in his back pants pocket. He reached into his right jacket pocket, his fingers closed around a cold hard object. Slowly removing the object from his jacket, he raised a semi-automatic handgun to his face. It was weathered and slightly rusted, but still seemed functional. James cocked it back, a single empty shell from the casing. There were no more bullets left.

From his other jacket pocket he pulled out a rusted door key wrapped in an old town map. He had pulled the items, and the notes, from the rotted grip of that corpse lying in the old trailer. Apparently it had been laying there probably for some time. It was a grim and unsettling discovery, much like the body he discovered earlier, but all James could think of was a way to get to Rosewater Park. He unfolded the map, and began carefully searching for the quickest route there. He compared the two maps with thoughtful curiosity. Though badly worn, this new one seemed to be more current then the one he had saved from the honeymoon.

Unceremoniously circled with a red marker, a building was marked. THE WOODSIDE APPARTMENTS.

"Woodside apartments? Why is it circled here? I need to get to the park, but... perhaps I might find more clues at this place..."

James took out the picture of Mary and sat it down next to him, staring at it. He took his time gazing into her blue eyes while her ghostly image smiled slightly back at him. He stood up abruptly.

"I have to learn more about what's going on here. Mary, the letter, this place, these strange messages? Where did all these monsters come from?"

James glanced casually out of a dirt covered window slightly cracked.

"There's still plenty of daylight left, the apartments are only a few blocks away. If I move quickly, then I should still be able to visit both the apartments and the park and get back to the car before night."


	3. Chapter 3: A Building of Voices

CHAPTER 3 **A BUILDING OF VOICES**

James slammed the heavy oak door with a deafening thud. Leaning his back to the door, as if guarding it against some unseen assailant, panting heavily; he gripped the gnarled wooden plank tightly.

"It's becoming more and more dangerous."

James began panning his light around the near pitch darkness of the Woodside Apartment foyer, taking notice of the dilapidated structure. Tightly boarded up windows allowed sparse light through tiny cracks; barely providing enough illumination to make out tiny particles of dust floating in the air. The place was like a crypt, cold, and silent. James stood quietly in the darkness closely listening for any sound, his heart beating a fierce rhythm anxiously awaiting the blaring noise of his pocket radio. Knowing all too well what that sound meant.

But this time, nothing. Nothing but silence.

Noticing a faded parchment posted on a conveniently placed bulletin board, with stiff and sore legs, he slowly made his way towards it. A map of the Woodside Apartment Complex. With a quick whip of his hand the map tore off the old tacks holding it to the board. James took a few moments carefully looking it over.

"Three, floors and a bunch of hallways; that's a lot of rooms to explore."

His eyes set on the maps second floor drawing. A circle was drawn in red ink around a room marked "205".

"These clues. Does someone know I'm here?" Panning his light around the foyer once more James made out the dusty image of an old door and the dominant image of a wooden stairway. One doorway with the letters "Office", lead to an adjacent chamber. James flashed his light into the open room, filled with broken and mildewed furniture. Carefully rifling through the drawers of a dust cached desk, he scoured through endless papers, files, billing notices, and repair receipts. For his efforts he found only a stapler, some paperclips, and an ancient packet of Tic-tacs. Nothing useful. He walked out, dust stirring into the air with each deliberate step.

Trying the closed door in the foyer, James felt the hinge rattle. It was locked. With a frown and a cautious glance upward, he began to ascend the grime laden staircase. The finite ambient lighting of the foyer, gave way to infinite darkness as he put foot in front of foot, moving upwards. Carefully keeping his light fixed ahead, James listened in oppressive silence for the blaring sound of static which would erupt from his radio.

It started, very faintly, the low static growl from his hip. The noise was telling him something was close, and with every octave, closer still. James gritted his teeth, he felt the hairs stand on his shoulders and neck. He gripped the now, well used, wooden plank tightly. He shuddered. A cold chill raced up and down his back. Half terrified and half determined he continued upwards towards the "thing" that was waiting for him.

James' panicked mind steeled itself. Despite his willful preparedness, the "thing" moved quickly, snapping at James once his eyesight poured over the landing to the second floor. Just as before, he avoided looking at the demon's monstrous visage as much as was possible. Ignoring its hellish form, he went to work pounding it into yet another bloody heap. It tore a gash along his side, his jacket was ripped, and blood trickled from his wound. His breathing was heavy, and erratic. Panic was beginning to over take him.

"I must stay calm. Just a little bit further. It's not like being outside is much safer". He held his bleeding side.

Stepping over the carcass, James made his way down the hall, carefully studying every room number. The hallway, like the rest of the complex, was littered with dust, the air heavily stagnant, invisible mice camouflaged by the darkness occasionally ran across his feet; startling him. Still his heavy footsteps pounded away in a fearfully loud echo.

THUD, THUD, THUD. He cringed, fearing his steps could wake even darker things.

"Room 205..." James mumbled to himself. "Almost there"

On an instance, James would peer into a room or test a door, many were boarded up. Those that were open proved empty with few if any lodgings or items left behind from their previous occupants. Old cans of food, old boxes of moth eaten clothes, old dishes chipped and laden with ancient grime. Ghostly rot from the past, nothing of any use to James.

Rounding a corner, James meticulously plowed his way towards the marked room on the apartment map. Squinting his eyes, making out the faint shifting shadows, James stopped at the door marked 205. It was slightly ajar. Pushing the door with timid fingers, it swung open with a low moan.

The room was ablaze with soft flickering light, much to the darkened contrast of the black hallway. James cleared his dry throat. He followed the shifting shadows through a worn kitchen filled with old newsprint and magazines, to a single bedroom.

James froze, feeling an icy chill through his very core. There deliberately placed in front of an old stripped bed, adorned with a torn mattress, was a featureless seamstress dummy. Lit candles carefully placed, surrounded it on the floor. What was on the dummy, however seemed of even greater meaning to James.

"These clothes. But how?"

Falling to his knees, James stared at the illuminated image. Recalling how he had selected that dress for her funeral three years ago, he bowed his head in disbelief.

"No this can't be. This must belong to someone else. But the brooch on the blouse, I put that on her, everything... It's all Mary's."

Glancing with stern eyes, he carefully studied the shadows. Could someone else be here? Is someone playing a cruel joke, or was this a sign? A sign from Mary, was she letting James know that she's here?

"Mary, are you really waiting for me at the Park?"

Suddenly, almost seemingly on cue, the static roared up from his pocket radio. James flinched stumbling backwards, startled. A shadow moved. James gathered his composure, peering around him, scanning the room. It moved again. James eyes widened, there were several mannequins in the room behind the dummy. One of them was moving towards him.

It, featureless, like the other monsters moved quickly to attack. A hideous high pitched hiss filled the room, echoing in his ear, as the "thing" closed within striking range. Swinging his heavy wooden plank, part by instinct alone, James shattered it on the monsters hard plastic shell. The creature grabbed James by the throat, with a horrifically strong grasp. It began to squeeze. Fighting ferociously as he gagged and gasped for air, James managed to free himself from its grip. He kicked the creature to the ground; it quickly jumped back to its footless mannequin legs. Holding his badly bruised throat, he turned and ran towards the black hallway. Behind him the inhuman skittering of fast steps followed.

Sprinting down the hallway as fast as his sore legs could carry him, James rounded the corner leading back to the stairway. Ahead, appearing out of the shadows of blackness, he noticed a small silhouette, a human like figure. Slowing down cautiously, he shined his flashlight towards the image. Much to his surprise it was a young child in a skirt and sneakers. Seeming startled for a moment, the girl froze next to a retractable metal gate attached to the wall behind her.

"Hey... what are you doing here?" James yelled out in between pants. "Run, it's dangerous!" The girl stared quizzically at James as he closed within a few feet. Then suddenly, just before James reached her, she grabbed the gate slamming it closed with a loud click.

"Wha?... Hey!.. You little brat! Open the gate! Hurry! This isn't funny!"

Sticking out her tongue disdainfully, the young girl ran off down the black corridor.

James feverishly grabbed the gate with both hands, yanking and straining, to no avail. The static from his radio began to roar louder and louder. He threw himself into a closed doorway on his right, the door burst open; he slammed it closed behind him. Leaning against the door for several anxious moments, James observed silence. Suddenly the door shuddered under the weight of a powerful THUD. That "thing" was trying to force its way into the room. It was strong, very strong.

Desperately, James panned his light around the apartment. He had a clear view into the living room area. There in an old lounge chair, a body was slumped. A large hole was left in the back of its head; clotted tissue was splattered and spewed onto the wall in front of it.

"My God... The hell is going on here!?"

As James panned the light, something twinkled. Next to the corpse an opened box held metallic objects. He squinted, carefully studying the objects as the inhuman assault continued on the door.

"Could that be?!"

Freeing a hand, James touched the hard cold object in his jacket pocket. Pulling out the handgun he had found earlier in the construction trailer on Saul St, James opened the clip. With a quick breathe of air, sprinting over to the opened box, he made a dive for the ammunition. The door crashed open behind him. He grabbed the metallic items -bullets, and with quick fingers loaded a couple into the previously empty clip. With cat like reflexes he spun around and fired several shots at the first moving object.

The sound of the gun thundered throughout the whole complex, the flash brightly illuminating the room for a brief instant. There within five feet of James, was the demonic mannequin. Shards of plastic flew from it, as the bullet hit its mark, dead center chest. Thick dark blood exploded from the wound, as the creature let out an ear-shattering scream, collapsing in twitching spasms.

James fell to his knees, gathering his breathe.

"My God, I need to get out of here! I see now that coming here was a mistake..."

He rested on the floor of the decaying apartment for several minutes in total silence. His thoughts went back to Mary.

"I shouldn't be wasting my time in this demonic place; I need to find a way back to the lake. Mary could be waiting for me there."

James quietly exited the room, again making sure he avoided the oozing mannequin's carcass as much as possible. He studied the tightly locked gate, it appeared to be rot-iron and very sturdy. Remembering a balcony in the bloodied room he had just exited, James reasoned that he might be able to jump to the adjacent balcony.

After cautiously climbing through to the other room, James pried open the door to the boarded up apartment. Paying close attention to the sound of static, he made his way back to the black hallway, bypassing the iron gate. He turned to head back towards the stairway.

The static began to flare, James instinctively froze, eyes wide. He slowly turned his head; the static grew louder, almost to a low roar. It was the loudest the radio had pitched yet. He felt the hairs stand up on his arms, his fingers began to tingle. His heart fell into the pit of his stomach once his eyes fell upon the image directly behind him. His mouth dropped slightly, James couldn't move.

The Thing, he had seen it a dozen times in his most recent terrifying nightmares. It was the demon that plagued his sleep, the one who tormented him in his deepest fears. Since his childhood, James had seen it a hundred times in his most dark and restless dreams. It was him, the monster he called Pyramid Head.

His throat was dry and tight. "No. Impossible, you're only a dream!" James mumbled hoarsely. "You can't be real!" He stared in terror and shock unable to move, the only thing separating them was the iron grate locked into position. The Thing was different now; different then how James remembered it. There were several subtle, but noticeable differences. This time the demonic creature wore a moldy puss-stained surgeon's gown, it held a massive knife, vaguely resembling a gigantic butcher's cleaver, which no doubt would require two full grown men to carry it. It's head and face covered by the morbidly large, blood red, pyramid shaped helmet it wore. It had no face, at least none that James had ever seen in any of his nightmares, its hands were thin and boney covered in blood-stained surgical gloves. The demon was monstrous in size almost seven to eight feet tall.

Though it had no eyes that could be seen, it stood silently behind the gate, seemingly staring at James. Then slowly, and deliberately it began to turn away and move down the hall away from him. James stood in disbelief as the roar of static began to fade.

"This, this place, it knows my darkest thoughts. My deepest fears come alive here... Or have I merely dreamed of this place in the past. Whatever the case, this town, it knows me..." His mind recalled the scraps of paper he collected earlier from the trailer on Saul St.

_"There is something to this place. It knows me."_

"I'd better load this thing"

Gripping his pistol firmly James quickly loaded the clip full with bullets, then loaded it back into the butt. Keeping it in hand he made his way down the hallway, down the stairway, back to the apartment foyer.

James remained in an icy glaze, as he made quiet steps toward the finite illumination provided by tiny beams of light shooting through boarded windows in the apartment complexes foyer. His heart still beat uncontrollably within his chest. Stumbling onto the landing of the first floor, something catching his nervous eye. The door, the one which had been locked tight, was now ajar. His mind contemplated leaving the damned building, but curiosity and desire for answers overrode his better judgment. His eyes picked up fresh dusty footprints in the narrow beam of his flashlight. He followed them through the doorway, into yet another wing of abandoned apartments. James followed the footprints down the hallway, towards an open door at its end. Room 109

Carefully nosing his face through the doorway flashing his beam around the dilapidated apartment, James's eyes spied upon a bright flicker of light spilled out between the cracks in a door directly adjacent to where he stood. A soft whimper and muffled voices echoed in his ears. Timidly James, steered himself towards the closed door, moving through the ancient rat infested apartment. He gripped his pistol tightly, controlling his breathing, which had quickened and become heavier. He reached his hand for the knob; slowly he turned it, painfully cracking the door less than a centimeter. In slow motion, unsure of what to expect, he peered inside, sweat dripping down his forehead almost falling into his eye.

Light flooded his vision; the chamber was bathed in brilliant sunlight, contrasting starkly to the immense blackness of the apartment building. It was empty, save for three things. The large cracked mirror still hanging on the opposite side of the wall, and the red crayon drawings scribbled all over the old rotting wallpaper. In the middle of the room a young woman was laying on the carpeted floor staring intently into the reflection of an old rusted cleaver. She wore a dirty sweater, seemingly contemplating unseen thoughts. Noticing the slight movement of the door in the mirrors cracked reflection, she turned quickly towards James.

"Momma?!..."

James swung the door open

"Oh... It's you." She replied.

"Yeah... I'm James."

"...I guess you want to know my name too right? It's Angela..."

"Angela ... okay." James replied keeping careful notice of the knife in her hand. "I don't know what you're planning on doing... But hurting yourself is never an answer."

"Really?" Angela sneered. "You're no better than me, that's why you're here too. You can deny it all you want, but you're the same as me."

James stared into pitiful woman's face.

"No... I'd never do something like that."

"What, are you afraid to do it yourself? You're afraid aren't you? Well, it's too late for that, besides it's what we deserve anyway."

"Wh, what we deserve?" James stuttered. "What are you talking about? Don't you remember me; we met in the cemetery outside of town a little while ago."

Angela peered strangely at James for a moment, before her face drained pale. "I...I I'm so sorry...please I'm sorry..." She buried her face in her hands.

James reached to put a hand on her, Angela abruptly pulled away.

"H,hey...It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you." He reassured. "Did you find your mother?"

"Not yet... She's not anywhere."

"Did she live in this apartment building?"

"I... ...I don't know...I can't remember."

"So all you know is she lived in this town?"

With the knife still in her hand, Angela suddenly jerked upwards towards James. He quickly took a step back.

"What did you say?" A look of suspicion fell over her confused continence.

"How do you know that?

"Well, -I just figured, 'cause this is where you're looking for her. How else would I know?"

"Yeah... I guess that makes sense." She cautiously replied, before her gaze became distant again

"Well, am I right?" James redirected.

"I'm so tired..."

"So why did you come to this town anyway?" James asked attempting to keep her attention.

A brief but awkward pause ensued, before Angela replied. "...I, I'm sorry... Did you find ... the person you're looking for?"

"Not yet." James responded, producing his photo of Mary from his jacket pocket. "Her name is Mary. She's my wife... have you seen her?"

James gently reached it out handing it over to Angela. With timid hands she quickly snatched the photo from him, glancing at it carefully.

"I'm sorry." Angela responded, shaking her head, handing the picture back to James.

"It's okay. Anyway, she's dea..d..." James caught himself too late. "Eh well...anyway, I don't know why I think she's here."

"...She's dead?" Angela queried passing a strange look at James.

Smiling weakly James attempted an explanation. "Don't worry, I'm not crazy. Least, I don't think so..."

Angela's gaze became distant again. "I've gotta find my momma..."

"Should I go with you? This town's dangerous. Now I know what you meant back there in the cemetery."

"N,no...I'll be okay by myself. Besides, Id just slow you down."

"… okay, if that's what you want, but what about that?" James pointed to the knife still firmly in her grasp.

Angela glanced down at it once more. "Will you hold it for me?"

"Sure. No problem. That's probably a good idea for now."

"If I kept it... I'm not sure what I might do."

"You ever think about talking to someone, you know getting some help?"

James responded as he reached for the blade. Suddenly as if startled or terrified Angela jumped, jerking the blade away, nearly slicing his hand in the process.

James backed up "Hey...it's okay...it's all right!"

Raising the rusted knife defensively horrified screams erupted from her mouth. "NO!...I'm sorry! Please don't! I know I've been bad! No...don't hurt me again!"

Rushing past James the knife falling from her grasp on her way out the door; the sound of fast footsteps could be heard echoing down the hall, then out the door. A deep frown came over James' face; glancing over his shoulder towards the dark hallway she disappeared into.

"Angela... I hope you find what you're looking for"

Bending down retrieving the knife from the floor, glancing at it, James easily flaked off some of what he thought was rust. Rather instead it seemed to be dried blood. James gave the room one last look over before heading back into the darkness of the complex.

"At least I'm not the only one stuck in this crazy place".


	4. Chapter 4: A Red Demon

**CHAPTER 4 ****A RED DEMON**

James grimaced, turning his head from the gore ridden room. Deep inside the Blue Creek apartments, directly adjacent to the Woodside apartments in a room marked 202, James gripped the handle of his worn pistol tightly. He had spent quite a few anxious moments fumbling through this much smaller apartment complex. Like before, those demonic creatures would erupt as static on his pocket radio, warning James of their presence. And like before James found himself fighting his way through those monsters, often it was just easier to run from them and conserve his limited ammunition. Most disturbing of all, was IT, Pyramid Head. He saw it roaming the halls inside this apartment complex as well. Though he had yet to confront it, he was quite sure that it wanted to kill him, to hurt him, to make him suffer. He wasn't sure how he knew, but just like in the dreams where this demon came from, he could sense its malice. But why had it not come for him? Perhaps it was waiting for the right time to strike, or perhaps, what James feared most was coming true, he was losing his mind...

James froze, hearing the distinct sound of heaving coming from the rear of the apartment. Carefully avoiding the ooze and gore, he silently walked towards the sound. He glanced at the body sprawled onto the floor, its head blown open, brains and blood splattering the wall behind it. He reflexively gagged before turning his attention away from it. The sound came again, the heaving, seemingly echoing deeply, then followed by the sound of sloshing fluid. James cocked his pistol, and opened the handle to a closed door, slowly at first, then with one burst of determination he threw it open aiming directly into the pitch darkness, flashlight in hand. He shined it into the small room, a bathroom. There slumped over the toilet was a large portly man in shorts and a striped shirt, his pants seemed to be falling from his waist showing the crack in his bottom.

Slowly the man glanced up at the bright light shining in his face, gloppy fluid draining down the corners of his mouth. He gazed into the light unable to make out the features of the person standing over him, before suddenly pushing his face back down into the toilet and heaving once more.

James lowered his light. "Who the hell are you?"

Finishing his heaving the portly man turned back towards James, taking notice of his face and features. "It wasn't me! I didn't do it!"

"Do what?"

"I didn't do anything! I, I swear! He was like this when I got here..."

James stared back at the mess in the kitchen. "My uh, my names James.

James Sunderland."

"Um... I'm Eddie"

"Eddie, who's that dead guy in the kitchen?"

"I didn't do it. I swear I didn't kill anybody."

"Nobody is accusing you of anything. Do you have any idea of what's going on here?"

"I ain't got no idea, I swear the guy was like that when I got here."

"Do you know anything about that red, pyramid thing wandering the halls?"

"Red Pyramid thing? I don't know what yer talkin' about. Honest. But I did see some weird-lookin' monsters. They scared the hell outta me, so I ran in here."

"Well, it would seem this place isn't too safe either. What happened here anyway?"

"Uh I, I just told ya, I don't know. I'm not even from this town. I just, I just...felt like I had...had to..."

"You too, huh. Something just brought you here, right?"

Eddie stared into the darkness behind James. "Umm ... yeah. You could say that..."

"Well, whatever the case... I think you better get out of here soon. This place... this is an evil place. Whatever the hell is going on, it isn't safe at all here."

"Yeah yer right. What about you?" Eddie replied standing back onto his feet.

"I'll leave as soon as I'm done here. Eddie ... be careful."

"But, James, I, I... um..." Eddie paused. "You be careful too."

"I will. But if you run into any problems, don't hesitate to look for me..."

"Uh...where are you going?"

"I've pretty much seen all I need to see from these apartments, I'm heading back outside."

In the hazy daylight overshadowing the town of Silent Hill, standing outside the Blue Creek apartments, James Sunderland un-crinkled a worn and stained piece of newsprint. During his cursory investigation of the Blue Creek apartment complex, he had discovered this in an apartment full of old magazines and had happened upon it due to its odd placement in the living room. Almost as if someone had left it there for him to find. Rubbing his tired eyes, James began to pour over it once more.

**MURDER SUSPECT COMMITS SUICIDE**

The police announced today that Walter Sullivan known famously as The Cole St. Slayer, who was arrested on the 18th of this month for the brutal killings of 12 year old William Locane and his sister, seven year old Janice Locane, committed suicide in his jail cell early on the morning of the 22nd. According to the police statement, Sullivan used a spoon to stab himself in the neck near the carotid artery. By the time the guards had discovered his body, Sullivan had died from severe blood loss.

An old schoolmate and friend of Mr. Sullivan's from his hometown of Pleasant River said. "He didn't seem like the type of guy who would murder little children. But I do remember that just before they arrested him he was blurting out all sorts of insane nonsense. Like "The red demon wants to kill me! He wants to punish me! The monster from my nightmares! God forgive me, I did it, but it wasn't ME!..."

Sullivan's old friend then added "I really don't think he's sane anymore."

"Red Demon?..." James paused a chill racing up his spine. "No, this can't be... It's just an old news article, the man was criminally insane, a psychopath." Reaching into his pocket James produced his photo of Mary, gazing into her haunting smile. "But...if this isn't a mere coincidence, could...Mary be leaving me more clues? And what is it exactly that she's trying to tell me?"

For a moment James seemed to become lost in the picture, lost in her eyes. Her blue eyes...

SUDDENLY Shrieking like a wounded animal, lunging with incredible speed a hideous faceless monster, the kind with arms seemingly sewn into its flesh, thrashing about, ripped a piece of flesh from James' arm. Startled James fell to the ground, dropping his picture, as the demonic monster stumbled over top of him. Glancing upwards in a state of horror, James opened his mouth to scream as a pungent noxious liquid began to pour from the demons small mouth like opening. It looked like sewage, and had a distinct odor of decaying blood, it poured over his head. James began to feel dizzy, the liquid vomit seemed to squirm on its own accord into his ears, eyes and nose. It seemed as though a thousand voices were screaming in his head, while horrible images of death and the grave flashed in his eyes. Instinctively James drew and fired his pistol. As he began to black out, a loud intense siren began to wail off in the distance. It seemed to ebb and flow over him as if the sound itself was flying back and forth across the sky. With his last second of consciousness James watched the monster collapse to the earth, pieces of its horrid body blown from the impact of his gunshot. He lay as the darkness over took him, the sound of the siren wailing away in his ears, until at last his hearing failed him too…

James lifted his eyes, he was floating. There was no ground; there was no sky, only darkness. Footsteps, echoed throughout the void, as a man approached him, a man in a brown button down shirt. He seemed to walk across the space less void as if moving across a floor. He approached James silently, stopping directly in front of him. James couldn't' make out much of his features as the shadows seem to cover every detail of his face.

James struggled in his weightless position. "Who are you what do you want?"

"My name is Ernest... I want to help."

"Earnest…" James squinted his eyes. "What's going on? Where am I? What the hell is happening to me? Is this all some kind of dream?"

"Yes it's a dream. But it's not your dream." The man replied.

"What?...I don't understand. I'm looking for my wife...can you help me please..."

"Is that why you're here? You're looking for someone?"

"I don't know why I'm here…" James groaned. "All I know is that she's waiting for me somewhere in this town… I have to get out of here."

The man paused for a moment, seemingly staring into James. "Do you even know where you are?"

"Yes!" James gasped in exasperation. "…look, can you please just help me?"

"Well, what is it exactly that you want me to do?"

James barely held in his frustration. "I want… you… to help me get out of this place.. this void, whatever it is."

"For what reason?" The man replied. "So you can find a way to escape this nightmare, or so you can keep looking for your wife?"

James narrowed his eyes. "Does it matter? I just want to get out of here."

"Tell me about your wife. What's her name?"

James grimaced, no he didn't want to talk about Mary. Not with this odd shadow. Mary's memory and her voice, rung in his mind, as he stridently fought to repress it.

"I don't have time for this. I have to find Mary!"

The man paused. "You're wife's name is Mary, then? Interesting. How did you loose her?"

"I didn't loose her…" James huffed. "She's waiting for me at the park."

"Well, if you're looking for her, how do you know she's there?"

"She sent me a letter alright, now can we just get out of here?"

"That doesn't make any sense, James. Mary is dead isn't she?"

James eyes widen in shock. "What? How do you know that? How do you know my name?"

"I hear things. It's not hard to learn things about most people who come here. But it still doesn't make any sense, if Mary is dead, then why are you here looking for her. A dead person can't write a letter, can they James?"

"I don't care if it makes sense to you; I'm here to find her." With stern eyes James gritted his teeth. "Are you going to help me or not!?"

"James what you really need to do, is to stop lying to yourself."

"Look…" James fought back a low sob "I just need to find Mary…"

The man sighed. "Everyone who comes here is desperately looking for or running from something; or someone…., a connection, a memory, a ghost, something they can't let go of. It's not hard to guess the reason you're here, I'm just trying to understand the details."

James face flushed with exasperation."Who the hell are you anyway?"

"I told you I'm Ernest."

"Ernest, just get me the hell out of here!" James yelled.

"I'm working on it James." Ernest continued. "But in order for that to happen you'll ultimately need to let go of her and accept the truth. If you won't, you'll never find your way out of here."

The sound of a distant siren once again began reverberating in the ears of James, coming forth quietly at first, gaining octave with every passing moment.

The man glanced into the distant void. "Damn… it found you. I'll try and find you again James." The image of the man began to blur as his voice trailed off. "Don't belie….L..es…r….fa..se….it when…..sh…not wh…..Yo….think….. is, Ja…."

The oppressive and blaring sound of the siren became overpowering to James, seemingly overwhelming his eardrums and mind with noise. Just when he felt his head would burst, he felt the odd sensation of falling inside of himself; almost collapsing from the outside in, the vision of the abyss quickly swam out of focus, and refocused outside of the Blue Creek apartments. James was standing; the photo of Mary was lying at his feet. He glanced around; there was no monster, no vile vomit, and no wounds on him at all. Everything was just as it was, except that it was pitch black.

Seemingly deep into the late hours of the night, there was no moon out, and a cold chill whipped through the ancient and abandoned streets, howling like a mad demon.

"What's happening to me? Is it night already!" James shook his head. "This is all like some kind of horrible dream. I'm not even sure what's real anymore." With shaking hands James searched through his pockets. "I didn't take my pills...I'm not hallucinating am I?" James rubbed his head. "I'm so confused..."

Picking up his picture of Mary, and walking with brisk feet, James began to make his way down the street retracing his steps back to the edge of town. The air was becoming bitterly cold and the fierce wind began to whip through his light jacket. Footstep after footstep, with his mind racing full of questions, he recalled more of those scraps of paper he had found earlier that day.

"Those scraps of paper, notes, written by the dead corpse I found in the trailer on Saul St..."

_"I saw those demons, they were there. Jim says he didn't see anything how is that? Does that mean what I saw was only an illusion of some kind dreamed up in my mind? But whether that demon that ate human flesh was real or whether it was some kind of hallucination, one thing I know for sure is that I am truly beyond all hope."_

"Maybe...I'm not the only one who's hallucinating. Other people are experiencing the same phenomena. Eddie, he said he saw monsters too...and Angela...well I don't know what she sees but she also seems unsettled and disturbed." James paused contemplating more thoughts. "And that vision I had floating in the dark abyss...that man Ernest...or was it just a dream? Does it mean something...? "Stop lying to myself", what could he have meant? Was he trying to warn me about something?"

James came to an abrupt stop, almost unconsciously preventing himself from plummeting into a large gaping crevice stretching the length of the street.

"...what the hell is this?!" Gazing into the depth of the crevice all James could see was swirling mists. "This wasn't here before... I came by this exact way earlier. What the hell is going on here?."

James glanced around much of the mist had cleared up, but now the oppressive darkness reigned in from all sides, making clear vision equally as impossible. Scanning the length of the crevice, it became quickly apparent that James would have to travel in another direction.

"I should move quickly. I don't want to get pinned here with my back to this deep cave in."

James kept up his quick pace, heading east, and then north. He walked briskly, but never hesitated to break into a jog at the mere hint of static on his pocket radio. He made his way past several more of those evil monstrous creatures, luckily they were slow moving. He came to an alley way, hesitantly he glanced around him. Static seemed to be coming from directions ahead and behind him, reluctantly he moved into the alley.

The alleyway was narrow, but quiet, as he moved down it, the static began to quiet down once more. He began to walk beside a low dip in the alleyway walls; a low stone fence connected two older brick buildings. James narrowed his eyes, for something seemed to be moving just up ahead. James gripped his pistol, but didn't brandish it. He had come to trust his radio, as long as the static remained quiet, he remained calm.

Slowly he flashed the beam of his flashlight at the object moving on the low stone wall. A face came into view, a small face with blond hair and green eyes. It was her, the little girl from the apartment complex. She was sitting on the wall dangling her red sneakers over its edge, James cautiously breached the distance, the girl turning her gaze towards him.

James narrowed his dark eyes. "You! It was you, wasn't it? You're the one who slammed that gate closed."

The little girl gave an insincere smile. "I don't know. Maybe I did."

"Well, what's a little girl like you doing here anyway? And in the middle of the night no less?" James replied, lowering his pistol.

Giving him an odd look, the little girl stuck her hands on her hips. "Huh? Are you blind or somethin'?

James took a close glance at the little girl; she seemed quite young to be out on her own in this evil place. He figured she was about eight or nine years of age. She gripped two pieces of paper in her hand.

"What's that letter?" James asked pointing to the girls closed fist.

Standing up abruptly the little girl painted a frown on her small slender face.

"None of your business. You didn't love Mary anyway!"

James froze, his jaw dropped open. "What did you say? How do you know Mary's name?"

Before James could get an answer the little girl jumped off the opposite side of the stone wall. "Wait!" James called out hoisting himself up onto the low stone wall. With a yelp of surprise, James fell backwards blinded by an intense brilliance of light, he hit his back heavily on the asphalt of the alleyway. Rubbing his eyes, and holding his sore back, he squinted in the sunlight. Though the thick fog still obscured most of his vision, light had returned to the town in the matter of an instant.

Moaning lowly, James picked himself back up to his feet. "Is it daytime already? Have I been dreaming? Was any of that real? If so what was real and what was a dream?"

Putting his hands to his face, James choked back some frustrated tears. "I don't understand what's happening to me...".

James scanned the mist shrouded sky; the fog was dense as ever. "Nothing makes any sense; I don't know how to get back. All I know is that Mary could be waiting for me at the park. If I can make it there, then maybe things will start to make sense."

Un-crinkling his used tourist map, James began to plot a direct course towards Rosewater Park, on the southern shore of Lake Toluca.


	5. Chapter 5: Maria

**CHAPTER 5 ****MARIA**

The large bay windows exploded on impact. An angered frustrated expression crossed James face, as he hurled the old brick through the newsprint covered pane of glass. Standing in Neely's bar once again at the South side of Saul St., he thumbed the grip on his worn pistol.

"Who the hell is leaving these messages for me?"

The old message spray painted in red paint on the newsprint had mysteriously vanished, as if it had never been there. But now a new one had taken its place, seemingly as if it had always been there.

_**IF YOU REALLY WANT TO SEE YOUR DEAD WIFE, JAMES, YOU SHOULD JUST KILL YOURSELF.**_

_**BUT THEN AGAIN YOU MIGHT BE HEADING TO A DIFFERENT PLACE THAN MARY...**_

The hairs on the back of James neck stood erect. "Could it be Angela, or maybe that Eddie guy? But how would they know about me, or about Mary? Sure he had mentioned her to them, but how would they know to paint the message here? And what about that little girl? Was she real or just a dream, and how could she know Mary's name?"

James glanced at the newsprint, loosed from the smashed windows. "It's old, as if it no one has changed it recently. But the old message was spray painted on here, now it's been replaced with this new one. Am I hallucinating again?"

He sighed studying the shattered remains of the bay window for a moment longer before finding his way back out into the mist shrouded streets of Silent Hill. On a whim he had stopped in the bar to determine the most direct path to the park on the South side of Lake Toluca, startled by the disturbing new message he discovered there. Pausing his steps, James glanced up at the overcast sky.

"I figure I have about another hour or two of light left. I better get moving; let's hope I don't have any more of those damn hallucinations." He glanced down at his map, checking his route, gaining his bearings, checking them against the ink drawn line he drew from his current position to the park.

James moved quickly, knowing he had only a few more hours of light left. Dodging more of those bizarre hellish creatures, he became more and more concerned with his ammunition.

He pulled the clip from the butt, he had three bullets left. This time these monsters seemed faster and stronger. The last one he shot down took two bullets to drop, and it had seemed to jump out of nowhere. The static was low, giving him pause at first, but then erupted full scale, once the demon jumped out from the thick mist. It was getting more dangerous out in the streets. These creatures were getting stronger and stronger. Though it seemed to James the only thing he had to fear from them was their teeth, and their noxious fumes they vomited from their mouths. Their limbs always seemingly sewn inside the flesh of their body, thrashing violently within their skin. Always faceless, they reminded James of horridly deformed mental patients in straight jackets.

James journeyed down many streets and alleyways; the park was a good three mile hike from the apartments. He met constant frustration as more and more of those mysterious crevices popped up, blocking his passage, forcing him to alter his route, several times. Preserving his limited ammunition, James was forced to sprint past the monsters now. Sprint as opposed to running, because now these creatures could move much more quickly than before. James was forced to throw a shoulder into three of them which barred his exit from a narrow alleyway. His jacket was ripped once again and skin torn from the sharp teeth of one of them. He nearly fell down; luckily he managed to keep his footing and kept on sprinting.

Finally after nearly an hour and a half of scrambling, sprinting, and dodging, keeping his ears perked for the slightest hint of static, and several close encounters with those horrid mental patient demons. He arrived at, Nathan Ave., the main street heading through the southern half of Silent Hill. James paused in the middle of the asphalt, with weeds shooting up from the cracks in the street, his face dripping sweat as he bent over to aid himself in catching his breath. He couldn't recall the last time he had ran so much.

"I need to find more bullets. This is insane..."

Looking down at his map, James observed the location of Rosewater Park. He squinted his eyes peering deeply into the thick mist, attempting to make out any portion of the obscured horizon.

"Damn this fog… it's so thick like smoke. According to the map, the park should be just a couple of hundred yards northwest, on the other side of Nathan Ave. Right on the southern bank of Lake Toluca..." Refolding his crinkled tourist map, James picked up a steady pace, heading NW towards

the park and hopeful towards some answers.

James felt his body shiver, the sweat was still soaking through his shirt, but was evaporating nicely. Nervous tingling sensations flared throughout his body, as he felt his heart fall into the pit of his stomach. His mind swam with thoughts. Was Mary really waiting for him here? Would he at last find the answer to this nightmare? And what would that answer be? What indeed is going on in this haunted town? He had anticipated this moment ever since he began this journey, but now he was hesitant, almost frightened. It felt somehow, strange and odd, as if he were calling up ghosts that had no business being disturbed.

Reluctantly he forced himself through the stone gateway entrance, leading to the shoreline park. Stone steps and a low stone wall guided visitors through a small garden down into the shores of Rosewater Park. This garden was littered with paved patios, alcoves and gazebos. Though still in good shape the garden seemed to suffer from a lack of attention as weeds seem to have sprouted up in between the stones. Rounding a corner, still heading towards the shoreline, James passed an odd statue. One of a cloaked woman praying, it seemed to be carved out of granite. Other than the moss slowly creeping over it, it seemed to be in good condition. James continued on to the walkway overlooking the shore.

The scent of moist air caught the attention of his nostrils, as James put steady foot after foot ahead of each other. The sound of the lakes waters gently slapping the side of the shore reverberated in his ears, the cries of a few birds could be heard off in the distance. He still continued foreword, nervously and expectantly.

Like a ghost materializing, a vague image began to appear just up ahead through the dense fog. It was a form, a human form. Freezing, James took a deep breath; his stomach lurched deep inside him. It was a female's form. Pausing for only a moment, James picked his pace up again, closing the distance quickly. The image melted into focus moment after moment. It was a woman in a short skirt. James swallowed a large lump in his throat as he closed the distance, when he was about 15 feet from her. The woman turned to him, with a slight smile on her face. Mary's smile...

James opened his mouth to speak; his voice was low and dry.

"M, Mary?..."

With bright blue eyes, the woman gazed into James' face. James took notice of her features carefully, she had short cropped hair with the tips died a bold red color, a tight sweater and a short tight black skirt, accented with black knee-high boots. James felt a sense of relief and disappointment, Mary would never dress like that.

"No... You're not." James hung his head dejectedly.

"Do I look like your girlfriend?" The woman replied, her voice strangely similar.

James peered carefully at the woman; there were obvious and startling similarities. "No..." He responded. "My late wife. I can't believe it. You could be her twin. Your face, your voice... Just your hair and clothes are different."

"My name... is Maria. I don't look like a ghost, do I?" Taking his hand in hers putting it to her cheek with a coy smile still painted on her lips. "See? Feel how warm I am."

A furrow traces itself across the brow of James. "Wow, you're really not Mary. She's not that direct."

"I told you... I'm Maria."

"Sorry, I was confused. Uh, anyway I have to go..."

Turning to leave, attempting to walk past Maria, she maintains her grip on his hand. "Where are you going?

"I'm looking for Mary. Have you seen her?"

"Didn't you say she was dead?"

James mind raced. "Uh yeah... three years ago. But, I got a letter from her. She said she was waiting in our 'special place.'" He paused. "I know it sounds crazy..."

"And that's here? Anyway, I haven't seen her. Is this your only 'special place'?"

A scene flashed in his mind, like a grainy video from the past a memory seemingly replays itself in his eyes. Mary, his lovely wife is standing against a window in a well maintained room, looking at the floor. The vision shakes, becoming distorted before fading out.

"Are you okay?" Maria asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. As for our 'special place' there's the hotel, too, I guess. The one on the lake... I wonder if it's still there."

Grinning broadly Maria glances off into the mist shrouding the lake. "The Lakeview Hotel? Yeah, it's still there." Pausing with a mischievous smirk; turning to James coyly. "So, the hotel was your 'special place,' huh? I'll bet it was."

With a look of annoyance, picking up his stride, James breaks free of Maria's hand and begins walking away.

"Hey, don't get so mad. I was just joking." She chuckled. "Anyway, it's not that way. It's this way."

Changing directions James begins to walk away once more, Maria follows.

"You're coming with me?"

"You were gonna just leave me?"

"No, but..." James stuttered.

"With all these monsters around?"

James froze at that comment. "What? You see them too? So it's not just me then... Hey what are you doing here anyway?"

"I don't know, I can't remember. I'm all alone here. Everyone else is gone..." Maria's eyes seem to glaze over for a moment as she leans on the railing overlooking the shoreline of Lake Toluca. "I look like Mary, don't I? You loved her, right? Or maybe you hated her..."

Turning to leave once more shooting an angry glance at Maria, James grows a deep frown across his face. "Don't be ridiculous. What the hell is your problem anyway?"

"So it's OK?"

Pausing once more taking in Maria's features James releases a subtle sigh.

"You really do look like her... Yeah, fine come on. Just stay close to me. It's very dangerous out in the streets."

"You don't have to tell me twice, handsome."

"Well I guess you can lead the way to the Hotel then?"

Flashing a flirtatious smile, Maria began to lead James out of the Park, south into the section of Silent Hill marked as the West South Vale area. From there they would head north around the western end of the lake up to the Lakeview Hotel built along the northern coast of Lake Toluca.

Questions swirled around in James's head. It had been ten years since he had honeymooned there with Mary, could the hotel really still be standing? Was it, like the rest of the town, abandoned and forgotten? What horrible fate awaited him there, what creatures and demons were lurking, could Mary really be there? Waiting for him, in their 'special place'?

They passed down several dilapidated streets, mostly the bigger main streets. The buildings were all boarded up, many of the windows had been busted out, and several older cars lay abandoned along the sides of the roads, rusting eternally as former shells of mechanized glory. A large steel pipe was imbedded in the hood of an old Chevy truck parked and forgotten in the parking lot of a run-down gas station. A curiosity to most, but to James he saw a useful and versatile weapon, one that didn't need ammunition. A few minutes of effort and struggle freed the heavy pipe from the rusted hood. Any question as to the usefulness of the pipe were answered only moments later, when James waylaid four of those hideous mental patient monsters with a few good clean shots from his heavy steel pipe.

Maria stayed close to James holding on to his sleeve, and later his arm.

Conversation with Maria was comforting; it felt good to have company on this nightmare of a journey. James found her to be an engaging lady full of whit and bubbling over with flirtatious charm. At times she would almost seem to flash images of Mary, her mannerisms her voice and way of laughing, seemed to be ghostly echoes of his beloved wife. It was partly unsettling and confusing, he felt almost tempted to challenge her about her identity.

"Mary...Maria?" James thought to himself. "What could the odds possibly be?

No, I have to remain rational. Her name is Maria; maybe my mind is just playing tricks on me."

"Oh my God!" Maria exclaimed pointing to a body slumped in a pool of blood and tissue.

James stared at the image, wincing slightly. It was reminiscent of the two bodies he found in the apartment complexes, the head seemingly blown apart by a large caliber weapon. James searched the body, it had no identification. His fist closed around a heavy cardboard box in its jacket pocket.

"Bullets!...The luck..." James paused turning his head and wiping his hands of the gore. "I don't know what's going on here; I've found several dead bodies looking the same way earlier."

"Who's doing it?" Maria asked. "And why just leave the body out in the middle of the street?"

"I can't say...nothing surprises me in this place anymore." Pausing James eyes noticing red footprints leading away from the body. "You see those?" James asked pointing to the footprints. "They look like they lead into the building across the street."

A weathered faded grimy sign hanging only by one side, dangling over a doorway, read. PETE'S BOWL-O-RAMA.

Maria grabbed onto James' arm. "You think the person who did this is in there?"

"Don't worry, I'm armed too." James replied, carefully inspecting then filling the pistols magazine. "Stay here outside by the door. If anything happens outside, don't hesitate to come get me okay?"

"But what if something happens to you? What will I do then; I'll just be lost and stuck here again?"

"There's a guy named Eddie and a woman named Angela roaming around these streets. They're stuck in this place too. They shouldn't be too hard to find, I've been running into them quite a bit."

"James -be careful, please..." Maria placed a soft unexpected kiss on his cheek.

James pulled away uncomfortably "I will don't worry..."

The door to the bowling alley was broken in, seemingly already having been accessed. With a low groan, swinging out outward, the door opens. Giving Maria one last nod, James disappears into the building, the sound of his booted footsteps echoing into the darkness.

Racing across the floor mice dart around his feet; the heavy scent of floor wax, and musk filling his nostrils. Old bowling balls covered in dirt and grime litter the floor, as if they had been knocked over many years ago, and never picked back up. With quiet movements, James carefully steps over them. Walking into the bowling arena, the sound of voices tingles in his ears. Pausing James listening intensely hears no static. Cautiously moving forward perking his ears, he remains silent as the sound of conversation becomes discernible.

James recognized one of the voices. It was that guy Eddie, the heavy set man he met in the Apartment complex earlier. James moved within eyeshot, still at a distance. His stern eyes noticing Eddie sitting in a booth, eating a brown bag lunch, a small lantern on the table provided enough light for him to eat by. Sitting on the table next to him, was a little girl wearing red sneakers...

Distracted in her conversation with Eddie, the girl didn't notice James approaching. "So what bad thing did you do? Robbery, murder?" She asked him.

Eddie with food still in his mouth responded. "Nah, nothing like that."

"Yeah, whatever. I don't believe you. You're just a gutless fatso!"

"Hey! Whaddya you have to say that for?" Eddie complained.

"I thought you said the police were after you."

"No, I just ran 'cause I was scared. I don't know what the cops are doing."

The little girl shifted in her seat playing with her dress. "But if you did something bad, why don't you just say you were sorry? Well… I guess I run away a' lots too."

A long pause ensued; Eddie stared down at his feet. "It's no good. They wouldn't listen. Nobody will ever forgive me. Anyways… you wouldn't understand, you're just a little kid…"

"Hello? Eddie?" James called as he approached the two. Eddie, the rotund man, stopped in mid chew as both heads swiveled towards the strange intruder materializing from the shadows.

"Oh… James right? Did you find the lady you were looking for...? What's her name...? Mary?"

"Yeah, we met in the apartment building. Remember? But no I haven't found Mary yet."

"Yeah, I remember, but... "

Having been distracted for but a moment, glancing around the run-down bowling alley, James quickly realizes the little girl had executed a magnificent disappearing act. "Are you alone here, Eddie?"

"Uh no..."

The sound of a ball rolling across the carpeted floor fills the room. Jumping up startled, James glances into the sounds direction. Rolling from the shadows a green marbled bowling ball stops harmlessly at his feet. Standing by the exit door was the little girl; grinning mischievously waving her hand to James and Eddie.

"Bye-bye!" With a push of the door, the girl runs outside.

James pivots immediately sprinting towards the exit. "Wait! Come back! Eddie! Let's go after her!"

"Huh? Laura? But why...?"

"Laura? Is that her name?"

"That's what she said."

"Well come on! The hell is the matter with you! This town is full of monsters! How can you sit there and eat!?"

"She said she was fine by herself... She said a fatso like me would just slow her down."

James sneered an irritated expression across his face. "Forget you…" Racing out of the bowling alley he catches the glimpse of the little girls skirt dart into the density of the fog. A few yards further Maria is bent over attempting to catch her breath.

"Maria! Did a little girl run out of here?"

"Yeah, she was too fast for me! Aren't you going to go after her?"

"Yeah, which way did she head?"

"She went down that alley."

Racing through a narrow alley between Pete's Bowl-a-rama and another abandoned building lined with old faded neon signs and multicolored light bulbs, following the sound of small but fast footsteps, James and Maria turn a corner before reaching a dead end. A small tiny opening grants access to the next street, but it is far too small for an adult to climb through.

"She went through there." Maria pointed in between pants.

"Is there any other way?"

"Yeah there is. Right through there." Maria replies pointing to the door of the gaudily lined building. An old half broken sign, still legible behind years of dirt read Heaven's Night Gentlemen's Club. "

Glancing around James quickly moves to the door to the club, trying the handle he lets loose a loud growl kicking the door. "It's no good. It's locked..."

"Hey calm down handsome..." Cooed Maria, producing a key from her sweater. "Tah dahhh"

James peered perplexingly at his companion. "Uh, why do you have a key to this place...?"

Flashing a coy smirk, Maria blinked her eyes at James. "Well I used to be a dancer..."

"Never mind" James interrupted. "I don't really want to know..."

"No" Maria chuckled tapping James lightly on the shoulder. "It wasn't anything so bad. I just danced. I love to dance. I used to live in this town you know..." She replied opening the lock to the old club.

"You normally keep the keys to old jobs?" Asked James.

"Old jobs? Oh yeah this town's been like this for three years, hasn't it." Maria paused slightly, in thought. "To be honest the most recent memory I have before I walked to the park, was waking up inside of this place."

"What do you mean? You must have come here from somewhere..."

"I told you I don't remember anything...I remember working here, and living in this town... But then I woke up in the club this morning and all of sudden everyone was gone. The town was abandoned, and then all those monsters, I was so scared..."

"You mean you don't have any memories of the last three years of your life?"

Maria's expression seemed to pale a bit. "...n, no, I don't...James I don't know what's happening here." Throwing her arms around James before he even had a chance to choose whether to accept her embrace, Maria held him tightly. "I'm so confused...please stay with me."

"H,hey...it's okay. I'm not going anywhere. I promise." He held Maria for a few moments, closing his eyes, in his mind if felt like he was holding Mary again. He could see her soft long hair and feel the curve of her back, she smelled like Mary too, just like the blanket he always slept with.

"We should follow Laura, this is a dangerous place." James abruptly interrupted the embrace.


	6. Chapter 6: The Brookhaven Syndrome

**CHAPTER 6:**

**THE BROOKHAVEN SYNDROME**

James stood firmly in the shadow casting doorway of the Brookhaven Hospital. Glass double doors reinforced with large door sized planks of plywood lay forced open behind him, and his companion, Maria. He stood in the foyer of this large three story hospital, abandoned like every other place in this town. Two potted plants flanked him, dead, dried and brown. An ashtray, filled with ancient cigarette butts, stood against the wall to his left. A receptionist window, with its dirt laden shade pulled stood about 30 feet in front of him, three hallways connected to this chamber along with numerous dust laden chairs lined against the walls. Long shreds of cobweb hung from the ceilings and corrugated ceiling tiles. James flashed his light around the dark chamber, glancing at any odd shapes, and listening closely for the slightest of static. Silence. He let loose a deep breathe...

"That little girl, has sure given us a quite a run..." Maria interrupted the dead quiet of the long forgotten hospital foyer.

"Well she came in here." James replied. "But, I don't know what she's running from. I can't understand why a little girl would want to run into a place like this..."

Maria nodded as she surveyed the rotting room. "At that age I'd have been scared out of my mind. Hell, I'm scared right now."

"Well one thing's for certain. We can't just leave her, here. Those monsters, this place... she's in allot of danger by herself."

Grabbing James' arm tightly, Maria buried her face in his back. "I'm with you wherever you go James. Let's go find her, let's go find Laura. I'm sure she must be terrified by herself, we have to find her."

James nodded curiously at his odd companion. "O..okay...then let's go."

Glancing behind him, outside the doorway, the once bright sunlight waning into the nighttime. "We only have about 20 minutes of daylight left. Like it or not, it'll be long after dark before we reach the outskirts of this town."

Moving at a brisk pace, kicking up clouds of dust and grime, clotting on the tile floors of the hospital foyer, Maria and James found their way into the receptionist room. The door was open, obviously having been forced open sometime in the past by a crowbar or similar implement. James flashed his light into the cluttered room, papers and files covered in more dust and strewn indiscriminatingly across the floor littered his vision.

He carefully searched the room for any useful tool, wading through piles of papers with his thick heavy steel pipe. Neatly laid out on the desk, was a folder opened and placed on top of a mess and mosh of lose papers and notices. Catching James' eye, reaching out and picking it up, lifting it to the small bright beam of his flashlight, a single sheet of yellowing paper, rested inside. James' dark and stern eyes began studying the typed note.

F**eb 18, 1992**

**Dr. Freidrich M Jung MD PHy**

**Topic: Notes on SH Syndrome**

**This is not the first recorded evidence of this local diagnosed syndrome. There exists many other location based mental disorders in the DSM. Such as the Jerusalem Syndrome, where tourists who arrive, and for whatever reason, perhaps due to mental instability combined with the powerful effect of visiting a place that holds such deep meaning, become psychologically overwhelmed; finding themselves believing that they are Jesus Christ or some other biblical figure. Often times the local police find these people wandering aimlessly in the desert. It's such a problem over there that it has been officially recognized as its own special disorder.**

**The potential for this illness, SH Syndrome, which I will be presenting a full report on to the medical community, like many other mental disorders, exists in all people; and under certain circumstances, pressures, stresses, and triggers, any man or woman could be driven to a state of severe mental imbalance. Or as the 'subject' prefers to say "the other side."**

**The choice of the term "the other side" is interesting and unique in the symptomology of the patient. Listening to the subject ramble on in a pattern of seemingly non-sensical exacerbations, it seems he is drawing a connection, either consciously or subconsciously, to the Christian concept of purgatory. Where there is, in the patient's words, "No wall between here and there"; "It lies on the borders where reality and unreality intersect"; "It is a place both close and distant"; "A land of tortured souls." Other parallels can be drawn from various other religious sources as well, but what's important to note is that this description is not un-similar to other descriptions from previous case studies of the Syndrome.**

**Several of my more superstitious colleagues believe there isn't any real illness at all. I cannot accept this because of the conclusion that remains, which would suggest some reality to the subjects' delusions. My colleagues will frequently make reference to the so called "curse" or "shadow society" that has been an urban legend in this town for decades. I'm a doctor, not some conspiracy buff, or some kind of expert on the occult. The patients' delusions of spiritual and supernatural persecution must be kept in context with modern medical science. Most likely he is acting out some sub-conscious guilt-ridden torment, aided by a powerful chemical imbalance.**

**Sometimes, however, I find myself asking this question. It's true that to us his dark imaginings are nothing but the inventions of a schizophrenic mind. But to him there simply is no other reality, even despite the high doses of meds he's administered on a daily basis. Furthermore he seems to find comfort in this delusion-ary world; as dark and insane as it seems. It protects him from many of his repressed pain-filled memories, his "dark secrets" as he refers to them, during his more 'aware' moments.**

**It's obvious the man will never be sane enough to be released. So why, I ask myself, why in the name of healing, after the deed is done and the harm is caused, must we drag him painfully into the world of our own reality? Is it not cruel and unnecessary to drag him into the reality where he has committed egregious crimes; a reality where he would have to face what he did to those two children? I fear that such a shock would be utterly devastating; there is no telling what such a revelation would do to this man's damaged state.**

**_F M Jung_**

Flipping the folder over, allowing the paper to fall to the floor, James observed the name. SULLIVAN W. printed on a tabbed sticker.

James felt a cold chill race up his spine, his eyes glazing over, disbelieving the odds of finding this note. "Was someone looking for something in here?"

"Who?" Maria asked.

"Or maybe...this is another message? Maybe she's leaving me another clue..."

"Y...your wife...Is she really alive?"

James let loose a low sigh. "I don't know anymore. My rational side says she's dead, I buried her. But all the evidence is pointing to a different conclusion."

"But why, if she is alive, is she leading you around on such a strange chase through this town?"

"She said she was waiting for me, in our 'special place'."

"Right the hotel... But we need to find Laura; it certainly can't be safe in here for a little girl."

James stared into the dark corridor of the abandoned hospital. "Mary, what are you trying to tell me...?"

Darkness encompasses James, leading Maria through the twisting corridors of this uninhabited hospital. A cold chill blowing through the hallways, moaning loudly through the old empty complex. Sounding like a giant yawn, the wind whipping around them, James keeps his eyes narrowed, plodding ahead. His ears perked, waiting for the sound, the horrible sound of the static. Lowly, and strangely a new sound emerged. It was static at first, James froze instinctively, gripping his pipe tightly, preparing to brandish it un-mercilessly upon the next staggering demon that dared wander near him. The sound changed, into an awful banging racket of sounds and clangs. The sound grew louder, and louder. James felt his body shiver, as a sharp chilling sensation ran down his spine, he felt his throat drop into his chest.

Something was coming towards them down the dark corridor; something seemed to be moving erratically. Banging sounds on the radio grew louder and louder. James winced, imagining the noise waking dark and horrible things.

"James..." Maria nervously whispered, gripping his sleeve tightly.

James waited expectantly for another of those 'patient' demons to emerge from the blackness. Deep in his mind, he fought to repress his worst fears, could it be him. Was Pyramid Head finally coming for him? James saw a flash of white emerge into the ambient lighting created by his flashlight, something was moving quickly towards him. Seemingly stumbling violently around, it seemed to be a slender figure, a white slender figure, flailing about awkwardly.

"What the…?" James mouth dropping as he muttered in shock.

There, in front of him, moving quickly to close the distance was a horrid visage and form the likes James had never seen in this evil town. It would've looked like a nurse, if it had a face. A svelte female figure, pale and ghastly white moved into the bright beam of his flashlight. Its face was stretched tightly over with featureless flesh. Its uniform splattered and covered with gore and ooze, mold and mildew. In its hand it held a wooden plank; almost identical to the one James had carried earlier on.

"Oh my god! James...James its coming!"

A garbled scowl emanated from the demonic nurse. Half high pitched howl, half hiss. It sounded like the painful screams of a tortured woman.

Frozen James could barely muster the will to move, the incredible impact of the heavy wooden plank in his ribs motivated him. Doubling over James let out a deep huff, as the demon nurse flailed another blow down at his head. The sound of a baseball bat cracked in his ears as the club made impact on his skull. The room flashed brightly as his ears began to ring, the thing was incredibly strong.

"James! Look out!" Maria cried pushing the monster away and onto its back. It quickly hopped back up to its legs seemingly defying the laws of physics, almost floating back up to its feet as if spring loaded. James stabbed his long heavy steel pipe foreword into the demon's abdomen shoving it back with great force. Using it as a barrier he held it firmly against it keeping it a bay, while he fumbled in this jacket pocket for another weapon. The creature swung its wooden plank repeatedly at James, just out reach. It made impact on his soft vulnerable hands gripping the pipe. James yelped nearly dropping his weapon, his fingernails blackening.

Just as the nurse broke free of the imbedded pipe, James squeezed the trigger on his pistol. The deafening sound of a gunshot echoed through the corridors of the hospital. The bright flash illuminated the immediate area for a brief instant. The thing fell back against the wall, thick green blood, like slime blew from a hole in its chest.

James lowered the pipe, holding his throbbing hand. The monster slowly moved back to its feet, then...quickly pouncing on James it swung a fierce blow at his head. Ducking in the nick of time, James unloaded four more rounds into its body at point blank range. Thick grime slime flew everywhere; it coated James' hair and face. The nurse gave one last scream before collapsing.

"James! You're bleeding..." Maria exclaimed wiping the gore off of his face.

"Am I?" Rubbing his head, James found his hand covered in slime and a warm scarlet liquid.

"You're head...you're hurt."

"I... I'll be okay." He stammered as he took two more steps before collapsing.

Lifting his eyes, James once again found himself standing in that black abyss. No sound, no light, nothing but darkness to see. James struggled to center himself, but the void was seemingly infinite with no objects in sight.

"James?" A voice called to him.

"Where, where am I?"

"It's a safe place in between realities. You lost consciousness and I was able to pull you here."

"What's happening to me?"

"You're drowning."

"I'm drowning… Yeah, that makes sense…" James grumbled sarcastically.

"Well you are, James." The voice responded. "You're drowning in your denials and forgotten lies."

An annoyed chuckled cascaded from James mouth. "I don't think you even know what you're talking about. For all I know you're just another demon of some sort."

"No, I told you. My name is Ernest, don't you remember?"

"So, what's that to me?"

The voice redirected the conversation. "So what do you plan to do, James?

Have you decided?"

"The hell are you talking about?"

"You're looking for Mary right? What are you going to do when you find her? Are you really willing to face the truth? What is it you want from her? Are you really just looking to find some peace in your life?"

"You told me Mary was dead, that it didn't make sense for me to look for her."

"No, I told you it didn't make sense that a dead person would mail you a letter; and to summon you here of all places." Ernest paused. "Do you believe in God? Are you religious?"

"There is no God… or one that is worth worshipping anyway." James shut his eyes, and slowly mumbled the words he had repeated to himself for over three years. "Just like there is no real peace in this world, and ultimately there isn't any meaning or truth either…"

"You say that with such, weariness in your voice. Are you really sure you believe that, James?"

"Truth, peace, happiness –it's all a lie- they're just illusions, we all die and we all suffer. Tragedy and pain are always waiting somewhere in this life; and the more you have, the more you wind up losing." James paused. "It would be better sometimes if we never existed."

"You feel that way about everything? There has to be something worth existing for. Sometimes life seems joyless because we never come to grips with the truth…"

"God damn you and your stupid Truth! It's all just crap!." James retorted.

"What changed you, so much?"

James paused, thinking about Mary about their life together, but there was so much there. So much pain, he didn't want to revisit.

"Look..." James spoke gathering his breathe. "A good God, a god of mercy and justice would never allow what happened to someone like Mary." His voice trailed off as James choked on some deeply repressed tears. "She was such a good person… She didn't deserve to die like that."

James mind swam with images and memories. "That disease, it robbed Mary of everything, her independence her dignity. You have no idea what it's like to watch someone you love burn away to nothing right before your eyes…"

"You're not the only person who's suffered, James. There are others who know the pain of caring for someone as they died, while at the same time…"

A long noticeable paused ensued before Ernest finished his sentence.

"…while at the same time wishing their loved one was already dead."

Taken aback, James paused before responding. "What? What did you say?"

"I know what happened to Mary."

"I don't believe you!" James seethed. "Who are you?"

"I'm not trying to hurt you James, but I know how she passed. Do you know? Do you remember? Can you see her in your mind right now? See her as the last gleam of life left her fading body?" The man paused. "Where were you James?"

"You bastard! What does this have to do with anything; and don't you talk about Mary as if you knew her! She never knew you; I've never met you before in my life!"

"Mary was…quite sick, wasn't she. You remember how she looked? In her final weeks…? "Ernest paused uncomfortably, slowly choosing his words.

"…remember how you thought that she looked like a… an ugly creature?"

Ernest turned away from James before he continued.

"You used to think she was some angry bitter monster; you kept her hidden away in the back bedroom…"

"YOU SON OF A BITCH! YOU LYING BASTARD!" James roared with the fury of wounded animal. "You don't know anything!"

Off in the distance, somewhere in the void, the distinct sound of a siren began echoing in James' ears. The sound wailed back and forth across an invisible sky, becoming stronger in octave with every passing moment.

"James, I can't hide you from the darkness for long; it will always find you in this town. I'm sorry if I've pushed you too hard, I understand that you're not ready for what you need to see. But I don't know how much time you have left. Keep pushing forward, the truth is there. Please, think about everything I've said..."

"THERE IS NO TRUTH!" James voice roared into the barely illuminated room, where he lay on an old stripped bed.

"Just relax...calm down" Maria calmly replied, wiping his forehead with a wet cloth.

"Where am I?" James responded, sitting up. Glancing around he was in a small room, dust and dirt covered the sparse furniture and flooring tile, the place smelled like old moth balls, with a strange hint of an undetermined chemical. A window with a rusted metal grate over it provided evidence of the dark hours of the night. Two candles burned on an old table next to his bed.

"You don't remember?" Maria asked.

"Oh...yeah that demonic nurse thing...it hit me pretty hard with that plank."

Passing a quizzical glance Maria sat back in her chair. "Demonic nurse? What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about... That 'thing' in the nurse uniform, it attacked me. You were there..."

"James, I don't know what you're talking about. You passed out in the hallway about an hour ago, don't you remember?" Maria paused wiping his forehead again. "I dragged you across the hallway into this room. I was so worried..."

Grabbing Maria's wrist, James stopped her from wiping his brow. "Don't give me that! You know what I'm talking about!"

"James, stop! You're scaring me."

Standing up, rubbing his head, finding no bruise or wound, a deep frown traces its way across James' face. "I know I'm not going crazy! That thing. I killed it! It's outside in the hall lying in a pool of green slime!"

Not wasting another word or thought, throwing open the door, clicking his flashlight on, James pans the length of the hallway. The location seemed identical, this had to be the same place, but... no trace of slime, gore or of any demonic nurse was there.

"James, calm down. It's okay, you've been through allot so far. You need to keep a clear head, remember, you're looking for Mary."

James hung his head. "How, the hell am I'm su..."

A heavy series of rough guttural coughs echoed throughout the corridor. James, turning, his eyes on Maria, watching her with concern as she falls into a series of intense hacking and choking. She falls to her knees. Picking her up holding her, James leads her back to the bed.

"Maria! Are you okay?"

Glancing up in between heavy coughing, Maria wipes strain induced tears from her eyes. "… Yeah… I...I'm okay… I just… get these fits… from time to time."

"Is there anything I can do? What's wrong?"

"It's nothing; I just need to rest some. I'm not feeling so good right now..."

"How long do you need to rest?"

"Don't worry about me James; it's already been an hour. We have to find Laura, this place is dangerous."

James objected. "Maria, I can't leave you here. You said it yourself this is a dangerous place."

"I'll be all right. I feel like this is a safe room, besides I can take care of myself if I have to. Laura is all that matters now."

"But...why? Why do you say that she's the only one who matters?"

"I...I don't know. But I can just feel that she's in horrible danger. James we have to find her!" Maria paused nearly nodding backwards.

"Maria? What's wrong?"

"It's probably just a hangover and a bad cold." Leaning back into the bed.

"Ooh, so comfy."

"O...okay...Maria, stay put. I'll come back for you once I find her. Keep the door locked, until I come back."

"Don't worry about me, find Laura." Maria replied before another series of coughing. "...and...James, be careful out there."

"You be careful too. I'll be back I promise."


	7. Chapter 7: Purgatoria

**CHAPTER 7: PURGATORIA**

James held the long metal weapon snugly in his left arm as he carefully loaded it with shells. Standing over the open locker, previously locked by an old combination padlock, now shot open by his worn but trusty pistol, James gave a silent word of thanks.

"Wait. What the hell am I doing? I don't believe in God." He muttered to himself. Still there was no denying the odd luck of finding this shotgun in the hospitals ladies locker room. Not to mention the three nearly full boxes of shells lying next to it, collecting dust. James finished loading his shotgun, it like his pistol seemed to be still operational. James mind raced.

"The pistol? That demonic nurse? Maria said she didn't see anything; only that I had just feinted earlier. But if that were true I should still have a full clip. If I'd merely hallucinated that whole thing, then I should have a full thirteen bullets still loaded."

Slowly, almost unwillingly James unloaded the clip from his pistol. He pulled the cartridge out and began emptying the bullets he cocked the gun letting an extra bullet drop out of the chamber.

"One, two, three... eight..." James felt the hairs stand up on his back.

"That can't be right...' James recounted them again. "Eight?! Only eight! That means I must've fired off five rounds somewhere from the time I last loaded this thing."

"The hell is going on!" James shook his head. "I don't know what's a dream and what's real anymore. Did I really kill that thing? I'm missing the right amount of bullets. But where was the evidence, the body of that monster, and the slime. Could Maria have set this all up? No, the place wasn't cleaned, and she would've had to clean the place up. But there was still layers of dirt and dust as if no one had stepped foot in that area for years and years."

Gathering his composure James stepped over the bodies of three more patient demons, there corpses oozing thick clotting blood from large impact wounds on their monstrous flesh. James wiped the blood off his steel pipe as he continued to exit the locker room.

Timidly, but determined James plowed his way through the expansive hospital. Searching dark, ancient rooms, full of old medical equipment and dirt covered medicine vials. Remnants of the past, old molded donuts, and stagnant slime coffee from eons ago, could be found in the employee lounges. James occupied his tense mind with deep thoughts.

"If that demon nurse was just a hallucination, then how do I know if any of this is real?" His mind began to throb, a headache was coming on.

"What if this is all a dream? A hallucination on a grand scale. Maybe that medication is doing this? Maybe because I didn't take it this morning?" A loud sigh escaped his mouth. "Nothing makes any sense. If I'm not crazy I'm sure as hell going to drive myself that way, if I keep thinking like this."

Pausing in an old storage room, he had pried open; James stared at old supplies in mildewed cardboard boxes. He pulled down a few off a shelf tearing them open, searching for anything that could be useful. Just a lot of old outdated syringes and gauze, nothing he could make use of. Pulling down more boxes, a distinct pattern behind them caught his stern and careful eyes. With rough hands he quickly wiped away decades of grime, clearly revealing scribbled writing scratched into the wall.

_If the common sense makes good sense, seek no other sense, lest it all become nonsense. MS_

"More signs?" James scratched his head, something seemed unsettling about it. "Those initials... But, this has been here a long time." James observed after studying the lettering. "Still...Nothing surprises me anymore."

Staring into the darkened hallway as static began to erupt in his radio, James gripped his shotgun tightly. Now it seemed that he would get the chance to test his new weapon. "I know, Mary. I'm coming, just a little bit longer."

He waited resolute and firm, controlling his never rescinding terror. A staggering form began to appear in his fading flashlights beam; James furrowed his brow in defiance before squeezing the trigger. Pieces of rotting flesh and stagnant blood flew everywhere, the demonic figure dropped to the ground. Preparing to pass it and head back out to the hallway wing of the third floor, that thing locked its sharp teeth on his ankle. Yelping in shock and pain as it tore into his bone and flesh,

James lifted his free foot up high, and brought it down on the monsters head with as much force as he could muster. The beast's skull exploded on James' heel; tissue and gore splattering on the walls.

It took a few moments to remove the sharp instruments from his flesh. Those teeth, like sharp shards of bone, stuck into him with great force. He had to pry them out with the help from some old scalpels and tended his bleeding wounds with gauze.

James gingerly limped out the supply room, casually glancing around at the shifting shadows, and perking his ears at the strange ambient sounds surrounding this old empty building. Feeling an odd and unusual sense of detachment, the sense of dread that had earlier almost immobilized him, was vanishing. His mind so shocked and torn, that nothing seemed to faze him anymore. His eyes had become accustomed to the darkness, and so had his sense of safety. He somehow seemed to have flipped off the switch controlling fear and panic. His heart still beat in a terrible restless rhythm, but he didn't care. He was working off adrenaline now

"Laura... Where could that little girl be? And is she still safe?"

James walked up to a broken emergency exit door. He easily forced it open walking up a small confined staircase up to the roof of the hospital. James opened the metal door, leading out onto the roof, a flat roof, spacious, perhaps 100 x 100 feet. There were exhausts and fans attached to it, some skylights too, perhaps leading down into waiting rooms and offices. James couldn't tell either way, mildew and grime covered them. He panned his fading flashlight around the darkness, there was no moon out, but James could feel a slight freezing breeze. He could see his breathe as he moved around the rooftop.

His light fell about something in the middle of the roof. It looked like an old worn book; it lay in the center of a symbol. A pentagram, a circle with a five pointed star inside. James easily recognized it as an occultic symbol, a symbol of magic and summoning. James frowned, he didn't believe in any type of crazy voodoo, or religion for that matter. But something about the prevalence of it gave him pause before he reached for the book, perhaps it was because the symbol seemed to be painted in old rust stained colors, possibly blood.

The worn book was soggy and molded, and smelled like it had been rotting for years. He skimmed through its green, mildewed pages. Much of the lettering was no longer legible, but some parts could still be made out. James glanced at the cover, the title PURGATORIA, was spelled out in unique lettering. It seems to be an old faded copy of Dante's famous work, but most of it was worn, smudged, or faded. However, with the use of his fastly dying flashlight, James could still make out some hand written pages from the back of the book.

_PURGATORY_

_A state or place of purification after death; as per the creeds of the Roman Catholic Church, or a state believed to exist after death, in which the souls of persons are purified by expiating such offenses committed in this life as do not merit eternal damnation, or in which they fully satisfy the justice of God for sins that have been forgiven. After this purgation from the impurities of sin, the souls are believed to be received into heaven._

Flipping through a few more illegible pages, James continued to scan the remaining writings.

_Here is my confession. _

_I know I have sinned, but against who is the question. Is it sin against some higher power, or against my own conscience that has driven me to write this? Is there a higher moral authority than the very Order and Church to which I am sworn and pledged by blood? Are such standards universal or is everything truly and absolutely relative? Absolutely relative? Ah, there is the rub. Either way I rationalize my crimes, I am unable to convince myself of their justification._

_In truth I was confused, and have been blinded by own denials. I thought I was innocent, but in the end I was only lying to myself. I have done great and horrible deeds; the darkness has been appeased. But I am not at peace, I am eternally lost. Lost in this place, the Silent Land, as the Iroquois used to call it._

_This place has been a focus of mystical energy for centuries, and we have meddled with things not meant for men to meddle. The Church has opened a portal to another realm. A child medium has been born that will lead the way to 'Paradise'. But I fear, in truth, it is the path to our very destruction. Our Lady's wrath, cannot be controlled or appeasedm she will make the whole world a labyrinth of slaughter. But my objections only served to isolate myself from the congregation, and have placed myself here. In this place._

_I bear testimony to this record, yet no one on the outside believes me, not even the other nurses or doctors. They just think I'm crazy, a victim of some syndrome. Now the curse is upon me. I am made to suffer in this nightmare, suffer for what I have done. No one sees what I can see, no one sees the darkness that encompasses me, and no one sees the demons that threaten me. And no one must know about IT, the Red Demon, the guardian and servant of our Mistress. I have betrayed them and now he's coming for me, I can feel his breathe on my shoulder, as I pen this all down. _

_Who is the Red Demon?...Is he Valtiel? Is he Xuchilbarra? Ha, you're a fool. But if you don't know, you should visit the Old Historical Society. Look for the painting, called Misty Day: The Remains of the Judgment. Here's a clue, he's the impaler..._

"My god..." James whispered to himself, amidst the now billowing wind. "The Red God? Again, that's the second time; I've found a reference to it. Could it be the same Pyramid Head that's hunting me? How can this be, Pyramid Head came from my dreams, it was like he leapt straight from my nightmares into this cursed town."

Carefully James studied the last legible entries in the books back cover before putting it in his coat pocket and heading back towards the exit.

_I was wrong, the Society was wrong. For that I was made to suffer, and as such I deserve my dark fate. We are all lost now; the Mother will devour her children whole... May whatever god you believe in, save our souls..._

"I don't believe in God..." James sneered. "Mary, why are you tormenting me so? Is it something you're trying to tell me? Are you mad at me? What did I do? Why do I keep getting told, that I'm guilty? All I ever tried to do is love you..."

James reached for the handle to the metal door leading down into the Hospitals third floor, west wing. Flying open, with incredible force, slamming into James, knocking him backwards, _a massive bony hand reached out from the darkened corridor_. James fell against the walled siding of the rooftop with an intense impact. He felt his back painfully kink, as an old brick dug into his spine. Letting lose a shrill yelp, he watched in absolute horror, as the tip of a massive red pyramid shaped helmet began to materialize from the black doorway.

The demon came forth from the shadows of the darkened stairwell. Its form, morbidly large, bony, and horrific, moved toward him with steady resolve. James saw that he carried his massive knife in his left hand; it dripped blood, fresh blood. James opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out, his voice was dry and his fear was paralyzing. At last, it had come for him. It was beginning; it was going to kill him. But not before it enjoyed itself first, James could sense the powerful hatred in the air. Could taste it, almost like overpowering perfume. It was going to hurt him, make him suffer; it wasn't satisfied with ending his life quickly, and then after that it still wouldn't end. Torture, maim and pain awaited him, hell and darkness eternal, it all awaited him at the end of the demons bloody knife.

"No!" James growled. "I won't let you skin me alive!"

Cornered James raised his shotgun, firing at point blank range. The demon reeled for a brief instant; cloth and tissue splattering around, as James pumped the shotgun and pulled the trigger once more. click. With horror James pumped the shotgun again. click. Panic stricken he franticly reached into his jacket pocket for more shells.

Pyramid Head stretched out his large bony hand towards James. James dropped three shells from his pocket, as he scrambled to reload. The monster held a firm grip on its massive knife raising it slowly as it reached for him, in his mind James could hear impish snickering, evil malicious taunting ringed in his head. It was too late, it had him...

"No TIME!" James yelled. "I haven't anymore time!"

Blindly hurling himself over the side of the roof. James mind swimming with thoughts as he plunged to his seeming death. "If I die, fine. I won't let it take me, not like that. I choose my own fate."


	8. Chapter 8: Laura

**CHAPTER 8 ****LAURA**

James winced from the incredible soreness that throbbed through his exhausted body. He rolled onto his stomach slowly and gingerly. Something slippery was under his hand, as he crawled towards his shotgun, warm and slippery. James glanced down, blood. Fresh blood, he lifted his arm up, painfully and sore, glancing at it. It was his blood; he was slicing his tender palms on the broken shards of glass underneath him. He tilted his sore neck upwards glancing at the ceiling, now just a huge hole where a glass skylight once rested. He had fallen a good fifteen, to twenty, feet onto the skylight, down into this room, and onto an old rotting examination table.

After re-acquiring his shotgun, James gave himself a few long minutes of rest, half expecting to see "it", come falling down after him. He took his time getting back on his feet, stretching his badly bruised muscles and sore bones. Nothing seemed to be broken, such luck. Or was it? James began to take in his surroundings.

Several stretchers old and undressed littered the room, half turned on their side. Emergency equipment and old surgical tools were tossed around the chamber, as if someone had frantically torn through the room in search of something. The place like the rest of the empty old hospital was dirt laden and smelled of being shut up for years. Outside the room, James could hear the wind rip through the hallways, generating a startling racket of bangs and howls. A sign posted on the inside of the door to this large room read SPECIAL TREATMENT.

"Now that he's finally made a move on me, I'll have to be twice as careful, twice as quick if I'm going to survive this nightmare." James sighed, dropping his head. "But none of this makes any sense." James flipped back through the molded old book, leaving his bloody prints on it. "

_...But if you don't know, you should visit the Old Historical Society. Look for the painting, called Misty Day: The Remains of the Judgment. Here's a clue, he's the impaler..._

"Impaler? Pyramid Head wielded a knife. Perhaps all the similarities are a coincidence."

James glanced around the chamber once more; he seemed to have lost his pipe in the fall. It was rather unwieldy though rather effective. At least he still had those two guns, the shotgun was lying next to him, and he searched his pockets finding his pistol and the ammo too.

"Whether or not the Red Demon and Pyramid Head are the same isn't really the point." James thought to himself. "The fact is that it's here, and it's wants to kill me. That is significant enough for me."

James limped with throbbing limbs out of the Special Treatment room, and down the halls. Roughly forcing open a few locked doorways, he found himself in familiar corridors. It didn't take him long to find the room where he had left Maria. He noticed the light from the candle she had lit was still flickering in the shadows through the glass pane in the door. He opened it slowly, it groaned loudly. Maria was lying down, half asleep.

"How could she possibly be able to sleep in a place like this?" James thought, furrowing his ever stern eyes.

"James..." Maria sleepily replied.

"Yeah it's me. Don't worry." He winced.

"Did you find Laura, yet?"

"N,no... not yet. But I still have one more wing to check. I know it's been a good while already. I'll try and hurry up; I hope we can find her. She may know something about Mary, not to mention this place being full of monsters."

"James," Maria weakly replied, still in a sleep induced stupor. It reminded James of Mary's last days, he grimaced slightly." I wanna ask you something. What if... what if you can't find Mary? What will you do? "

"I don't know." James paused thinking deeply. "I haven't thought about that."

"Don't worry about me. I'll be okay soon. Laura must be in that last wing, I know it. Go find her."

"I'll be back..."

James exited the room, closing it behind him. He glanced down at his bleeding hands, gingerly pulling tiny pieces of glass from them amidst more winces. Maria hadn't noticed his wounds at all, or the fact that he was limping noticeably. She barely opened her eyes. Something more than what she was telling him, was going on. A frown pasted itself on James' surly face. He hated being left out of the loop, and hated being surprised. He was half tempted to go back and force Maria to tell him the truth. Watching her grow ill so quickly disturbed him. And reminded him of...

James pumped his shotgun, and headed down towards the last wing of the hospital. He had detected a lot of static there during his first set of rounds through the large empty facility. Purposefully avoided it, hoping to find Laura somewhere else in the hospital. But his gut instinct was right; in his heart he knew where he would find that little girl. And if he wanted answers to his dark questions, he would have to go straight into the static festering section.

James steeled himself, adrenaline pumping. What horrid monsters were waiting for him? He had come this far, he wasn't going back until he had some answers. Pyramid Head, was still lingering around, following him. Could he be waiting on the other side of that double doorway, leading to the East Wing? This time he had a full seven slugs, loaded in his shotgun. That bastard of a demon would have to take a full salvo from it, before he'd get his prize. James picked up his pace eager to get the confrontation started and over with. His boots beat out a loud rhythm as their pace picked up. He flung open the double-doors never stopping hesitating or pausing. He pointed and unloaded his firearm at anything monstrous that moved in the shadows.

The sound of repeated shotgun blasts echoed throughout the hospital complex. It came in salvos, then long pauses followed by more. Then even longer pauses, and more blasts. The sounds ripped through the whole building, anything or anyone with even the slightest of hearing could detect the noise, from any point in the structure. James marched his way through a battlefield of demonic monsters, patient demons, and even more of those demonic nurses. Now there were many of them, just an hour or so before, James had doubted whether they truly existed or not.

"I knew it! You weren't just a dream!" James chuckled to himself, half losing his mind in the endless nightmarish slaughter. He paused over one of those nurse demons, watching it attempt to wiggle itself free from under his boot.

"What the hell are you? Where did you monsters come from?" He emptied the last shell in his shotgun into it at point blank range. James was splattered with clotted blood, and green slime. At last he had cleared the wing. He could detect no more demons. The static died down, and became silent once more. James leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, exhausted sliding down its side onto his rump. He pulled his knees up to his chest, the beam of his flashlight waning badly now. He chuckled to himself again as he wiped gore off his face, his chuckle quickly turned into a low sob.

"I'm losing my mind… I can't tell what's normal anymore. I'm getting nowhere, and I'm losing it. I don't know how much more I can take. Mary, I want to meet you so badly."

Remaining in his stupor, James rested. Recalling the earlier events of the day that lead him to this place, a corridor riddled with the corpses of horrid demons. Just a day ago he was living a normal life in his home, but he couldn't recall any specific details.

Standing up, James ears perked, the sound of a door closing off down the hall reverberated in his head. He reloaded his shotgun; he still had a full box of shells left. He moved down the hallway, he listened quietly for static, silence. He relaxed his grip on the shotgun as he opened the door. It was empty, just a few beds and some worn medical equipment used for monitoring patients vitals. He flashed his dying light in the room, scanning it carefully. A small voice echoed through the room, James fixed his eyes on one of the beds. On it rested a bright blue teddy bear, it looked relatively new. He gazed at it carefully, he heard a small voice. A child's voice.

"No, I don't want to talk to him. He's a really mean guy." A child's voice spoke from the darkness; it seemed to be coming from behind the bed with the bear on it.

"I don't care...I can find her without him." The voice spoke again.

"Here you can play with Mr. Rabbit."

Walking into the room, the voice abruptly stopped.

"Laura?" James spoke aloud, his voice dry.

A small head of blond hair tied back with a ribbon poked its head from behind the bed.

" Huh? You know my name?" The little girl replied.

"Eddie told me."

"That big, fat blabbermouth."

James sat down on the bed directly across from her, gently placing the shotgun by his side. "That's not a very nice thing to say..." James paused, no response. "So how do you know about Mary?"

"What's the big deal" Laura replied with veiled sarcasm.

"Why can't you just tell me?"

"Are you gonna yell at me if I don't"

Taken aback, James consciously shifted his demeanor. "No... I won't. I'm sorry I guess I do come across a bit gruff. Can you help me please? I'm really confused."

James stared at the edge of the bed until a bob of blond hair popped up and a set of blue eyes peeked over at him. "Uh, umm… I was friends with Mary... We met at the hospital. It was last year..."

"You mean at the hospital, three years ago?" James asked.

Laura thought for a brief moment, her eyes scanning the ceiling "No, it was my last birthday..."

James interrupted her with a fierce glare. "You little liar! That's impossible!"

"I... "Laura stuttered tears beginning to brim in her eyes."Fine! Don't believe me! "She ducked back under the security of the bed, grabbing Mr. Bear.

Regaining his composure James settled himself, lowering his voice again. "But last year, Mary was already... I'm sorry Laura; I didn't mean to yell at you… Anyway, let's go."

After a long silent pause of reflection Laura emerged from her hiding spot. "O...okay." Laura replied gathering up her stuffed rabbit and teddy bear.

"What are you doing in this place anyway? Aren't you afraid of the dark? I would've been scared outta my mind at your age." Remaining silent Laura glanced at James strangely.

"We can talk about this later." James continued. "This is no place for a kid. There are all sorts of scary things around here. I can't believe it. You haven't even gotten a scratch on you."

"Why should I" Laura asked.

"What do you mean? Haven't you seen all the bad stuff running around here? And who where you talking to in the room just now anyway?"

Laura shrugged. "He's my friend. I'm too little to be out here by myself. So he follows me."

"You ran away?" James asked.

"Yeah, I didn't like that home anyway... The other kids were mean… I just wanted to be with..."

"Who?" James asked. "Who is it you wanted to be with."

Reaching out suddenly, Laura grabs onto James' arm pulling him in the opposite direction. "Wait! Wait! There's something I gotta get!

"Later, okay"

"But it's really important!"

Turning around to face Laura, kneeling to her level, James stares into her bright blue eyes. "What is it?"

"A letter. A letter from Mary."

James's face freezing its expression. "Huh? A letter?"

"James please... I have to go get it. Is that okay?"

James gazed in disbelief into the eyes of his tiny companion. "Uh, yes, yes. Let's go get it together, but stay close to me okay?"

Walking down a hallway, James glances around noticing that the corpses of those infernal demons had vanished. "The hell! I know I didn't hallucinate all that." He thought to himself. "But I don't want to frighten Laura."

The little girl led James to a room that he had previously and unsuccessfully attempted to gain entrance to earlier.

"It's no good" James shook his head. "It's locked."

"No it's not." Laura replied. "Producing a key from her skirt pocket."

"Where did you get that?"

"My invisible friend gave it to me. He said he found it, in the receptionist office."

"Someone else is here?" James scrunched his nose. "Are you talking about Eddie or Angela?"

"Who? Angela? And that fatso? No way. My friend has a secret name. He helps look after me."

"Well, where is he now."

"I dunno he said he was going to take a break for a bit. He said that you were coming and that you'd watch me for a while."

"I'd really like to meet your friend."

"You can't, he's invisible. You'd never be able to see him."

Unlocking the door, swinging it open with a loud rusted moan. Laura emphatically points into the darkness. "C'mon hurry up!"

James dying beam of light flashes through the empty room. "Is it in there?"

"Yeah. In the back."

James' eyes stare into the empty chamber for a moment before moving inside. With soft step after step, making his way into the middle of the chamber, stopping, James turns back towards the doorway. "What're you doing?"

"It's further back. In the desk."

"You're not lying to me are you?"

"Who me? Do you want Mary's letter or not?"

Continuing to head towards the back, walking cautiously James hears the sudden sound of the door slamming behind him shut. A loud click follows the sound of the closing door.

"Laura, what are you doing!"

Irritation flaring over James' countenance, sprinting over to the closed door, pounding on it, he quickly observed that it wouldn't budge. Suddenly the sound of static quickly erupting from his pocket radio gave him startled pause. His eyes widened immensely as the gravity of the situation hit him as intensely as Laura had slammed the door on him. "Please don't let it be it, not Pyramid Head." Turning, nervous, and shaken, the image of a new horrid form swings down from the ceiling. Appearing like some horrid creature sewn into a bag, stretched tightly across a rusted metal frame resembling a small bed, the creature screamed a hellish cry from a gaping mouth full of sharp mandibles. The static roared louder.

"Ha-ha!" Laura's mocking voice carried through the door. "I tricked you!"

"Open the door, Laura!"

"Why should I? I'm a liar, right? Want me to open it? Huh? Huh? Do ya?"

Turning his back to the door, facing the monstrosity coming towards him, emphatically beating the door with his fists, James yells. "Laura open the door now! This isn't funny!"

"What's the magic word?"

Glancing around feverishly James raises his shotgun, his arms were trembling. The thing moving into striking distance with every passing moment.

"Laura!"

"Okay. I guess I won't open it... I think I'll just leave you like this..."

"Godammit you stupid little brat! Open the fucking DOOR now!"

A brief pause ensued before Laura's response. "Why...you, you..." Her voice cracking. "You stupid fartface!"

The sound of little feet echoing down the hall, served to unsettle a trapped and panicked James.

"NO, Come back! OPEN THE DOOR!"

The thing swung across the empty chamber, static roaring like a horrible waterfall from James waist. A sudden sound to his right, betrayed the location of a second one of those insane bed-frame monsters. Low grumbling, snarls filled the room, reverberating off the cold tiled walls. With unsteady hands, arms trembling, James aimed his long barreled shotgun skyward towards the ceiling, where those two infernal demons hung.

Twirling and swinging violently, James first shot missed its target blowing a small hole in the corrugated ceiling panel above him. He pumped the gauge on his shotgun, firing again. Another miss, these creatures were swift and nimble, faster than James could move. One swung directly above him, James pumped and fired again, nicking it, as it swiftly swung to the other side of the chamber, it's rusted metal frame screeching across the steel grates holding the ceiling panels. The second monster took its turn swinging down at James, as his attention was turned upward, it landed a heavy blow to his jaw. The creature attacked, knocking him backwards, latching like a vise of nails on his shoulder, crunching through bone and flesh drawing blood.

A scream escaped from James' mouth as he struggled to free himself from the crushing bite of this hellish thing. The pain was excruciating, unlike anything he had every felt before in his life. He heard bones snap as he stumbled about. In shock from the numbing pain, unable to wield his shotgun, with his free arm in frenzy James reached into his coat pocket for the pistol.

Aiming his free arm at the demon devouring his right arm, James quickly switched targets emptying the remaining five bullets into the other demons bag-like body, as it swung down at him. It exploded in a cloud of rotting, maggot laden flesh, the frame collapsing to the earth, clobbering James with a sharp rusted corner in the process. James dropped the pistol.

Falling backwards to the ground, he felt his strength leave him. The thing had half his arm into its sharp mouth. He could feel its teeth deeply impaled in his arm pulling about his bone. The warm flood of crimson fluid poured profusely from his wounds, an artery must have been hit. Everything around him seemed to slow down, and darken, even amongst the failing light of his pocket flashlight.

Barely noticeable in the distance, he heard the siren. The sounds around him faded away, the banging, and howling of the fierce wind through the hallways died. The only sound remaining was the feint chewing's of the THING tearing and ripping his arm. His vision blackened and he become distant, and weak. He felt, his body tense up, starting to twitch, death spasms. James mind raced fiercely.

"Oh my God, I'm dying…" His eyes glazing over. "Mary…I did my best."

The room swam out of focus, insanely, dissolving as if made by salt and doused with water. It swirled and stretched, heaved and tilted, as if the world were being shifted by the hands of God. The colors mixed and the sound, **that awful sound of the siren **began to ring in full volume.

Though not a metallic toll, it sounded like the bells of hell to James, the bells calling him home. Calling him to the place he deserved. But why?

The sound wafted stronger and stronger, the visions of the room swam becoming thicker and stranger. He felt himself fall inside of himself once more, as if invisible hands were pulling his soul inside out, into a black hole; a hole inside himself, sinking into the floor. In the distance James could hear her voice, the voice of Mary, softly calling him.

"James… James… James… James…"


	9. Chapter 9: The Nightmare Hospital

CHAPTER 9

**THE NIGHTMARE HOSPITAL**

James opened his eyes, blinking in the darkness, softness under his feet, and the scent of cold but fresh air in his nose. Mist encompassed him billowing around his form, the shotgun in his arms, and the pistol in his jacket pocket. Glancing around with confused looks, falling to his knees, tears rolling down his face, James holds his head in his hands.

"I'm losing my mind. I'm going crazy. I don't know what's a dream or what's real. I don't know what's happening to me."

"But you can be sure that not everything is a dream" A voice familiar and distant responded from the shadows.

"What?" James stood up, regaining his composure. "You, it's you. You're doing all this."

"No. I'm not" Ernest replied slowly. "This place is part of you."

"What are you talking about?"

"All of this, this nightmare, all of this is about you and your wife…"

"What does this town, these monsters, or you have anything to do with Mary or me!?"

Ernest paused, his silhouetted face peering upwards towards the starless sky. "It took me awhile to find you; I can't pull you back to that place I had brought you to earlier. Something is resisting me…"

James opened his mouth to respond but froze. Pausing a few moments he responded glancing towards the shadows where Ernest's voice emanated.

"Are you talking about that Pyramid Head thing I keep seeing?"

"...It's a part of it, yes."

Lowering his shotgun, James relaxed, relieved to finally have some validation. Finally someone other than him knew something about it. He wasn't totally crazy after all. Unless Ernest like Pyramid Head was just an illusion as well.

James paused. "...Pyramid Head, he's called the Judge...the Impaler?"

"Some call him that." Ernest responded, with a tone of surprise. "Where did you hear that?"

"But how?" James continued. "I don't understand...none of it makes sense."

Emerging from the shadows, walking to a spot next to James, sitting on a bench, Ernest crosses his legs, leaning back. He was a middle aged man perhaps in his early fifties, with graying peppered hair and a cleanly shaven face. Not as tall as James he was a smaller man, and wore a pair of slacks along with his brown button down shirt. Taking in his surroundings for the first time, realizing that he seems to be standing in the middle of a yard or park, James walks over and takes a seat next to him.

"What is 'the Judge' and what the hell is this darkness and evil? Can you tell me?"

"The Judge is an entity that haunts this realm, it's empowered by the darkness that lives here. Its purposes can vary, but in this instance it's here to bring horrible unmerciful justice to those who are lost in this realm; people like you James."

"But the Judge and Pyramid Head are the same thing? Pyramid Head came from my dreams my darkest nightmares. How is that possible?"

"What you see is… the reality for you." Ernest paused. "What someone else may see could be something entirely different. But what you need to understand is: though it may take different forms and have different names, it's still the same force that is pursuing you throughout Silent Hill."

James hung his head in his hands dejectedly. "But why? Why is it after me? Does this all have something to do with Mary? Is he after me because I'm looking for Mary?"

"This realm has opened itself to you James, because of some kind of connection you have with this land. The spirits and powers that live here respond strongly to the feelings and memories of those who find themselves drawn inside."

James reflected inwardly for a long moment. Many thoughts and images of the dark and horrid things he encountered thus far, flashed in his mind. But the one thing that kept popping back up was the message painted on the newsprint in the Neely's Bar.

_If you really want to see your dead wife, James, you should just kill yourself._

_Then again you might be heading to a different place than Mary._

"Am I going to Hell?" He asked.

For a moment James looked up at Ernest, the man's wizened eyes stared thoughtfully back at him. But as Ernest opened his mouth to speak no sound came out.

The thick mists quickly began to swirl to an intense thickness covering James vision to within less than a foot. Stretching his arm out to the spot where Ernest was sitting moment's earlier, James hands grasped nothing but empty space.

Glancing down at his arm James stared dumbfounded. "My arm, it's perfectly intact. Stretching out his strong right arm, James ran his fingertips over the soft flesh. Not even a hint of a scratch was detectable.

"More hallucinations?"

In front of him, barely detectable through the mists, was a door leading back into the Brookhaven hospital. James could just see, squinting his eyes tightly enough, to make out the old faded exit sign hanging on the side of the abandoned structure.

"I have to find Laura." He grunted, trying to motivate himself to reenter the damned building. "I have to find and protect that ungrateful little brat."

James stood defiantly, loading his shotgun with the last of his shells, removing the clip in his pistol, taking careful inventory of bullets. Empty. With a small frown and some foresight, James replaces it back in his jacket pocket. Moving towards the exit, listening to the sounds from his small radio, James remains in deep thought contemplating the confusing circle of questions, now colliding in his mind.

"I need to find more ammo. That's gotta be my biggest priority right now. But I still need to find Laura and get Maria first."

Swinging open the double door, stepping in from the frosty misted night, James dying flashlight sprays dimming illumination in the hallway, giving him pause. Something wasn't right. James paced carefully back and forth down the hallway, studying the rooms, and the flooring. The place seemed familiar, the layout, he remembered where the hospital courtyard was located. This should be the right place; he'd walked up and down it quite a few times earlier, while scouring the area for Laura. Everything was in the right place, but, the textures, the colors, even the tiles were different. Older, maybe, more rotted, burnt, decayed. It looked as though the hospital had been abandoned far longer than just three years. Now the hospital seemed to have been forgotten by time itself, aged countless decades, perhaps centuries, by rot and filth. Others things too, caught his disturbed attention. Markings, signs, and paintings had changed. Where once he saw a simple landscape oil painting, now was replaced by disturbing depictures of swirling fires, rotting corpses and demonic images. The decor had changed as well, rusted chains, and serrated grates took the place of vents, panels and windows.

James felt his heart race in a more hideous intense rhythm.

"Everything is changing, warping into something unreal. This is not, real. It can't be real..." James repeated to himself. "It's like some nightmare within a nightmare…"

With a steady finger on the trigger of his shotgun, he, wandered down the halls, retracing his steps back to the room where Laura had previously locked him in. "None of this is real", he kept telling himself.

However, moving down the darkened corridors, ears perked for static, James eyes detected more and more dramatic changes as he wandered deeper into the hospital. Pieces of furniture, and equipment, appearing burnt and charred lay in piles. Water, lots of freezing droplets of water began to drip in a horrible symphony of drops from the ceiling. The place began to feel like a freezer, the hairs stood on his arms and neck as the distinct sound of deep heavy breathing seemed to cascade down the halls, the walls almost seemed to pulse, as if alive.

"Oh my God…" James gasped in a hoarse dumbfounded whisper, as blasts of cold air blew past him, paused and then blew back the opposite direction precisely like the deep breathes of a living creature. "What's happening…?" Flabbergasted and terrified and with nowhere to retreat to, James forced himself onward.

He came to the room; the one Laura had locked him in at. He fumbled with the now heavily rusted handle, which screamed in protest as he expended an enormous amount of effort to swing it open. Nothing… the beds were now just rotted shells, the bed frames looking eerily similar to the ones which held the bodies of those swinging bed-like demons. Closing the door back, searching around; the sound of static began to roar in his pocket. James narrowed his eyes, as the horrible racket of BANGING indicated the presence of one of the nurse demons.

"Damn only 5 shells left! I should just run like hell."


	10. Chpt 10: The Darkness You Bring With You

CHAPTER 10: **THE DARKNESS YOU BRING WITH YOU**

"Maria? Where are you?"

James stared sternly into the illuminated room, candles burning brightly against the stark blackness of the forgotten hospital chamber. Everything was as it was when he last left her, but now she had disappeared.

"No sign of you..." A frown found its way across James' surly face "Please be okay"

Panning his light around the dimly lit room, studying carefully for any clue, his vision targeting a plethora of empty medicine containers on nearby grime covered shelf. Holding them up to his light, James carefully reads the prescriptions written on the stickers.

"No name on the labels, but these drugs..." A cold chill running up his spine.

"These drugs...they're the same as Mary's!"

Dumbfounded, he felt his knees give out under him; he dropped roughly on the now empty mattress. It was cold as if no one had laid on it, in a long time. James held his tired head in his hands, and began to slowly rock back and forth.

"I'm not losing my mind...I have to stay alert. I can't let this all get to me." Fighting back uncontrollable thoughts, his mind raced furiously. "Maria, are you just a dream?"

The greatest fear of all began to permeate his thinking. "Am I losing...my mind? Ernest, Pyramid Head, Laura, Maria...am I doing this... to myself? Are any of them truly real?"

He glanced outside the rusted metal grate that had replaced the window pane, when he and Maria had originally entered this room. It was dark, no stars, and no mist. It was as if he were staring into infinity, a matter-less void, into darkness eternal. Reaching into his pocket he pulled the worn molded copy of Purgatoria out and into his sight once more.

"Purgatory" James thought to himself. "It's a place to purge venial sins."

With rough fingers, he flipped through the mildewed book once more, a new passage caught his attention, one he must have missed earlier, it was barely legible, but he could just make it out, almost as if someone had planned it so.

_Those who cannot cross the abyss will fall into it, consumed by an eternal fire. But, to those who do cross, shining robes shall be given, and they shall be welcomed into paradise._

A sneer forced its way onto his face. He stood up pinching out the candles, turning to leave the room. Still a sense of truth reverberated in his thoughts; something was trying to reach him. Sure the tenets of the Roman Catholic Church were no more poignant and spectacular than any other religion. He recalled how the local Baptist congregation in his hometown had reached out to him when Mary died. And it was true that much of their ritual was based in pagan traditions, and allot of hypocrisy, but still could there be an underlying truth behind many of these religious teachings? Like so often in life, folklore and traditions, can and usually do, serve as shadows of even greater truths.

Glancing upwards, James caught the image of an older man in a brown shirt, graying brown hair neatly combed, and a haggard yet thoughtful expression on his face. Slowly he tilted his head back towards the floor.

"Not again... No more hallucinations..."

The man spoke. "I told you I would find you again. Have you decided whether or not this is all just a dream?"

James shut his eyes tightly hoping Ernest would disappear. "I just want to know the truth… I know Mary died, but my heart, in my soul I feel her. I know she's here somewhere, somewhere in Silent Hill she's alive. But I can't even trust my own perceptions anymore; you may not even be real, everything is so insane."

"There is always some semblance of truth in even the craziest of perceptions, even here in Silent Hill. Whether you see a demon or angel, the fact is, you see something. Something _is_ there; something can be touched and spoken to. But what you see, or what you perceive, is only relegated to matters of interpretation in your mind. Our perceptions are merely shadows of the actual instances that our mind tries to interpret."

Ernest paused again. "Does that make any sense?"

"I don't have any more time for this nonsense. I have to find Mary."

"You still haven't found her yet?"

James cut him off. "What does it matter? You just told me everything was in my mind. Maybe even you..."

"No, I didn't say that…" Ernest crossed his legs leaning back. "Remember our perceptions, what we see, such as this dark world around us, are only shadows of things which are real. They may not be true in themselves, but they represent an even greater truth. Just like that Pyramid demon, he's real no doubt, but to someone else he may appear as something entirely different."

"This again? " James glared. "The only truth is that I'm stuck in some crazy hell full of monsters trying to kill me, and I'm talking to someone who isn't even there."

"I suppose that is… your way of understanding things." Pausing, taking a moment to gaze out the grated window, Ernest shrugs his shoulders dejectedly. "I'm not a good person James. That's why I'm here, why I'm able to find you and talk with you. I dunno, maybe, there is a semblance of truth in what you say, maybe this is a type of hell, a kind of purgatory."

"If this isn't hell, than what is this place?"

"This is… Silent Hill."

"That doesn't make any sense…" James grunted.

"The lands surrounding Toluca Lake can be used as a gateway to another realm. Those who possess a strong link or connection with the land seem inextricably drawn to this place. Something inside this realm wanted you, James. You've been pulled into this Otherworld, where your guilt and memories are taking shape and coming alive."

"So this… isn't real?" James pondered.

"No, it's very real. Don't be mistaken about that. It's just not the REAL world that you are familiar with."

"But why me? What does this place, this Darkness want from me?"

"The Darkness is different than the place. That's important to remember."

"You're talking in circles. What is the difference between the two?"

'The Darkness is something you bring with you…"

"Would you just give me a straight answer? What the hell does that even mean?"

"You are here for the same reason the others are here. You possess some connection to Silent Hill; it knows you. But the Darkness that surrounds you is just the mask that this realm wears. The realm has many masks, and the mask it wears depends on the person wh…"

"I'm here because of Mary, that's all." James interrupted.

"Well, perhaps Mary is your connection to this land. Perhaps this place, or something inside it, called out to you, beckoning you, bringing you to it, because of Mary."

"No. Mary sent me a letter, that's why I'm here!"

Ernest let loose a low sigh. "This is getting exhausting… This is your 'special place', yours and Mary's, is it not? Maybe that bond, that connection with this land, has brought you here."

"If that's true, then what makes our bond so different than anyone else's? Why the hell did it bring me here, and for what purpose?" James glanced up at Ernest. His eyes falling on empty space, no sign of anyone anywhere.

James stared into the darkness for several long minutes, feverishly thinking; recalling all the clues Ernest had shared with him.

"If I was brought here because of my connection with this town, my inability to let Mary go... maybe the others I've met are here for the same reason -a connection that they cannot let go of either."

James stroked his sore temples, and rubbed his tired eyes -thoughts racing through.

"The darkness, is what we bring with us? But who is it, what is it exactly? This place beckons us here, and the Darkness exacts judgment upon us through our own guilt?"

Standing up, with heavy footsteps exiting the chamber, James cocks his head, listening carefully for the sound of static. "Sin and guilt? But what sin? What horrible, unthinkable things could I have possibly done to deserve this?"


	11. Chapter 11: She Is an Angel

CHAPTER 11: **'SHE IS AN ANGEL'**

James' stern face exuded strength and resolution, but his quivering eyes betrayed the panic setting in. His light was dying, he was lost deep in the third floor, in an unmarked wing of this nightmare hospital. He stared foreword never blinking as the light of salvation suddenly dimmed and dimmed quickly dying into absolute blackness. It consumed him, he could see nothing, nothing but black.

He needed a new 9volt battery; he had searched high and low across the hospital for one. Old flashlights, and anything electrical that may require a battery, had fallen under his hapless search. Nothing was found. In this, the last utility room he could find, his light finally and completely failed. He was lost now, suffocated by the perpetual darkness.

He stood motionless for many moments, sweat dripping from his brow. Giving his light one last shake, it blazed forth once more. Frantically James scanned his eyes over the room, furiously taking in its entire inventory in a matter of seconds. Not a moment too soon as his light finally gave up its last sparks of life, growing dark, and this time forever. His mind raced in the darkness, struggling to recall the items it photographed in his brain. In his thoughts he panned the length of the small chamber, several pieces of electrical equipment caught his attention, still sealed no less. Perhaps he was in luck after all.

Moving in total darkness, spending numerous minutes, slowly and deliberately opening the packing blindly without light, James fumbles with the item, some electric surgical tool, perhaps a saw. Who could know in total blackness? Several more and exhausting minutes later, his hands closed around the freed metallic item, the sensitive tips of his fingers felt the nodes at the top indicating a battery, seemingly the correct size and type as well. It took him only a few more moments to replace the dead energy source in his flashlight. Brilliant light, blinding him temporarily, flooded the room once more.

Frozen to his spot, as his eyes shifted upward, catching the detailed relief apparently etched into the stone worked utility room wall. It like many other depictions in this nightmare hospital was dark and disturbing. Many long gangly black arms stretched painfully upwards, desperately trying to reach an item nailed to the wall. A key...

Snatching the key, glancing at it curiously James reads the words embossed into the keychain. B-1 Storeroom

"B-1?...Basement...room 1?" James rubbed his tired eyes. "What's down there?... Pointless..." James hung his head. "I'm wasting my time...but what if Laura and Maria are in real trouble? What if they're not just figments of my mind?"

A bright white piece of parchment caught the attention of James, as he turned to leave. Neatly placed on a shelf, boldly on display for anyone to read, it seemed to be folded in threes; dusty, appearing to have been sitting there for a long time, almost as if it was waiting for James.

Taking only a few seconds, unfolding it, James began to study the paper. It was a note of some sort.

"Another note? Maybe another message, a sign? But how could anyone know I'd find it here?"

_I was locked up inside the basements basement. It was so small and dark and I was so scared. I dropped my special ring. But I will never, ever go back there. I guess that means I'll have to listen to the head nurse from now on; I don't want him to hurt me or put me back there again. He's a mean brute, but everyone thinks he's a normal person. No one knows what he does when the shift workers all go home for the night._

"Basement's basement? Is this the key to the basement's basement?" James stared into the infinite darkness of the abandoned third floor hallway.

"Someone or something wants me to go down there..." He paused, thinking.

"A ring? What kind of ring is this, and why is it so important in this rambling note? It's special...like the Lakeview Hotel...It was me and Mary's 'special place.'

In his mind an image flashed into his thoughts. A fresco, a strange fresco he had passed in the hallway earlier on. It was painted into a strange door, which, despite his best efforts, refused to budge an inch. Almost as if the door was welded into place. The fresco, it was a woman's profile, a woman in a red robe, with long flowing brown hair and brown eyes. It portrayed her form from the waist up with the sides of her robes draping down a foot lower, seemingly making her appear as if she were floating without any legs. Her hands were raised up to her face, her right hand protruded slightly from the door, with her ring finger pointing straight outward as if something should be placed on it.

"The ring..." James mumbled "The 'special' ring..."

James checked the ammunition in his shotgun, his pistol was still empty. He had nine shells left.

"Interesting, but where would a basement's, basement be." James rubbed his throbbing head. "Deep down, no doubt. Many floors down. Find the basement, and then look for a floor even lower."

Without the slightest hint of hesitation, resolved and steeled, James began his methodical march towards the lower floors. Foot after foot, step after step, plodding his way, James kept his quivering finger on the trigger of his shotgun. Moving down the black corridors, groaning and breathing, with the heavy bursts of wind blowing through the abandoned structure, the sounds gave James terrible pause. He found himself almost hesitant to retrace his steps, feeling a sense of safety in the thought of staying quiet in the dark, rather than moving again.

The haunted hospital, born from his nightmares, remained as damp and rotted as it was when James first reentered the complex. The common medical surroundings, now looking surreal, as the tiled floor slowly changed into old rusted steel fencing under his feet, the steady thud of his steps, gave way to the clink and clang of walking across metal. Staring down between his moving feet, James saw only darkness, and mist under him, swirling into infinity. The walls were now fully rotted and burnt, covered in ancient slime, the hospital now resembling a tomb buried and forgotten for centuries, rather than a hospital three years in neglect. James mind wandered within his head, conjuring up dark, unmentionable thoughts. It felt as though he were walking through time, watching the world around him slowly decay with every movement and step forward.

The walls and ceilings began to rot and crumble around him, and the water, the freezing drops of water coated him falling from the ceiling, creating another slight mist under his feet. Still the layout of the structure remained unchanged, and though James no longer recognized the surroundings, he knew where he was, and where he had to go. The basement...

As he made his way down the crumbling stairway to the final floor, all the doorways had fallen in on themselves, collapsing without a sound. Except one, the only room still standing on the first floor. It would have been a nurse's lounge, if he were still in the real world.

James could only guess what purpose it served now, in this, demented, nightmarish universe. With slow steady movements, straining to hear static emanating from his coat pocket, James enters the door-less chamber. Old heaps of rotted wood, and grime covered floors, gave evidence of furniture that once stood here, seemingly a thousand years ago. Now nothing but lumps of grime, soot, and fibrous mold covered gunk, dotted the room saturated with the thick scent of earth and age.

His careful, but weary eyes caught the image of a neatly folded form. The only thing in this room which had yet to see corruption, a scrap of paper lying in a pile of ash stacked neatly in the corner of this dilapidated room. James took the scrap into his hands, brushing off the soot and dirt, staining the paper a dingy brown. Lettering, written in ink could still, but barely be read.

_**She is an angel**__!__ No one knows, only I can see the Lady of The Door. They cannot walk along her bridge of thread. They fall from the weight of their own crimes. Like bloated and ugly corpses, their sins -she devours them. Sin and sinner alike she saves me. She is an angel!_

"The Lady of The Door... That door, the door from the hallway back there. It's got to be the same one that this insane poem is talking about"

James mumbled, fidgeting with the paper, holding his shotgun under his left arm.

"I wonder who she is. In an orange robe, red hair, porcelain skin... Maybe some copy of a famous Madonna? She seems so stoic."

Pausing taking in the stale air, James continued to ponder the meaning of the Lady on the door.

"Another convenient sign, left for me to find. Could there be a deeper meaning? The lady of the door, I remember in the park, there was a statue of a Lady in a robe, or cloak. There seem to be a lot of references to this person. I'm just so confused; I wish I knew more of what was going on. Mary...what does it all mean? I want to meet you so badly. I'm patient enough to wait for you but will you be there waiting for me, like you promised?"

Glancing out of the decaying doorway, James steeled himself to continue his journey to the basement, the pit of the hospital. To James it felt like he was moving deeper and deeper into hell.

"I'm coming Mary, I just need to wrap up a few loose ends. Don't worry, I'm coming honey."


	12. Chapter 12: Memories and Ghosts

CHAPTER 12: **MEMORIES AND GHOSTS**

James squinted his eyes in the crystal white sunlight, beaming from the window in his bedroom. He was warm, and rested, content and happy. A smile pursed his mouth, his ever stern eyes, easy and relaxed, as if no trace of hardship had ever burdened them. Deeply inhaling the air, the scent of fresh brewing coffee and eggs filled his nostrils. He was cozy, so comfy.

Glancing down at his feet, he noticed he was tucked into a fluffy cream colored comforter with green and blue paisley markings dotting the length of it. He was sitting up in a bed, a bed made for two. He reached over to the unoccupied side of his bed, running his palms along the length of the bottom sheet; it was still the slightest bit warm.

"Mary?" James called out.

"Just a minute" A sweet gentle voice called back to him, from the adjacent room.

"What are you doing, this is your day off. I should be making you breakfast..."

"Oh James" Mary responded, her small slender frame emerging from the doorway, carrying a tray full of steaming food. "This isn't just my fifth anniversary, it's yours too."

James smiled, as he took the tray from her arms. His soft brown eyes met her gaze; she was lovely, so lovely. Petite and feminine, gentle with the softest, kindest blue eyes. She was still in her PJs, her favorite ones, the green ones with the white trim that came down to her calves, keeping her warm in colder months, yet remaining thin enough to breathe during warmer times.

"So what would you like to do today? Anything is an option, the sky is the limit." James replied, pulling her towards him, laying the tray on the stand by their bed.

"Well I was thinking maybe we should just stay in bed...all day..." Mary replied with a mischievous smirk. "You never know we might get lucky this time."

Eyes turning dark and sad, James moved his attention towards the corner of the room, the place that was piled with unopened boxes, one of them ajar having spilled its contents onto the ground sometime in the recent past. The wooden planks and pieces, the plastic baggies full of screws, a baby's blanket lying over it indiscriminately.

His happy expression evaporating as his mind swam with memories and thoughts, a deep frown crawled across James' previously happy features. Taking notice of his demeanor, sitting on his lap, wrapping her small arms around his large chest, Mary buries her head into his large frame.

"James...it's okay. We didn't do anything wrong, it's not our fault. Sometimes it just happens this way, wherever our baby is, I'm sure she's loved and happy. She's an angel in heaven now."

James paused holding her close to him, smelling her, the combination of fabric softener from her Pajamas and the subtle hint of perfume. That fragrance she always wore, that seemed to waft off of her constantly. It was such a subtle and soft scent, so fresh and glorious, like her. He bought that for her during their honeymoon, several years ago; back when they visited that quaint resort town nestled in that lush green valley up north. For the last five years, she never wasted a day without wearing it.

"Mary" James asked. "Do you believe in God?"

"Of course I do, why would you ask me that?"

"I'm not so sure that there is a God... I mean, if there was a God, why would He take her like that, why would He stand by and let something like that happen?"

Mary stared into the ceiling, thoughts flooding her mind. "I, I can't say James. But we can be sure that she's in a good place now, a place where she is taken care of better then we could ever..."

James interrupted her. "I never got to hold her... Not once, she was with us every day for nine months. We felt her kick and move... and, I never got to hold her once."

Gently and tenderly Mary stroked his solemn face. "Oh, James. We'll have a child some day; we have to trust in that. We can't always know why things happen, but I think that everything has a reason and meaning. Even our child, though she lived only a few hours, her short life meant so much to us. And her memory will never be forgotten, will it James?"

"No, I could never forget our little Angel..." James replied as he thumbed a tiny hospital wrist tag with the name Angel Marie Sunderland written on it.

"Yes James, _**she is an angel**_..."

The words echoed in James head, as the vibrant memory faded from his mind, plodding down the steps leading towards the basement. At least that's where he thought he was going, a basement is always under a building, no matter how old, dilapidated and rotted it was. It took only a few moments longer before he found himself on the bottom of a long corridor stretching far and straight into the blackness. Numerous doors, decked the walls as James walked across the cement flooring, his footsteps silenced now, by the thick and heavy flooring. The sounds of wild wind whipping through corridors died down, as he descended deeper into this underground complex.

Testing each door on his way down, James found them each locked. Putting timid foot in front of foot, still intensely listening in the oppressive quiet of this dark dingy corridor for static, James still could not control his shaking. He was quite thirsty, and was feeling a bit hungry as well.

The long hallway was long, very long. It felt as though James might never see the end of this narrow and strangely distant corridor. After many anxious memory intense minutes of walking, the beam from his light began to bounce off a doorway at the end. The worn and faded words lettering the door read "Basement Storage Room 1".

The room unlocked quite easily, not a hint of rust or aging prevented the clean and precise opening of the seemingly ancient lock. He opened it, shotgun raised, carefully paying attention to the sounds from his radio. Nothing. Nothing but an empty room with a large wooden crate leaned up against the wall. Glancing at it, with just the slightest of interest, James could see the scratch marks on the wooden floor leading from the crate.

"Something's behind it."

With a few heavy pushes and thrusts, the crate moved slowly, grinding and scraping across the flooring. After a good minute of effort, a trap door reveals itself. Kneeling down before it, studying it, James grips the old dusty handle pulling it towards him and opening the old door with a loud metal wrenching scream.

Panning his light down into the hole, a room below was visible, a chair, a single chair, stood in the center of it, mirrors were on every side of the wall, shackles, old rusted shackles were screwed into the solid wooden chair, now laden with dust. Small mice scurry under the invasion of his flashlight, as the beams reflect and refract off the four large mirrors.

"Now what could be down here?" James mumbles to himself taking notice of an old ladder leading into the room below.

Carefully securing his shotgun in his jacket, to free up his hands, James swings his legs down into the hole onto the first rung of the ladder, then the second, then the third. He carefully eases himself down into the chamber, one step at a time. Landing securely with both feet on hard wooden flooring, James takes a closer look at this strange chamber.

Empty, nothing at all, except the chair and shackles. Glancing over the room, a bright red pool of liquid catches his eye.

"Blood? Is this blood? It looks so fresh... who's is it?"

Bending over it, a sparkle reflects in his stern eyes, reaching out a hand into the fresh, still warm, pool of crimson fluid, James pulls out a solid metal object. Rubbing if furiously, cleaning it off, it quickly becomes apparent that he was now holding a copper ring.

"A ring... The 'special' ring?"

Spending only a few more moments in this tight claustrophobic room, James quickly scans the empty chamber once more before climbing back up the ladder.

"The ring, that crazy person's special ring. It goes on the finger of the painted fresco lady... But who is she? What does she represent, and why is it here, of all places in this hospital?"

James sighed as he began to climb the last rung on the wooden ladder. "A Madonna? A painting of the Madonna?"

He paused once more as he began to climb out of the strange pit back onto the landing of the basement storage room. "Mary... Why is finding you so hard?"

"James!" A voice called out suddenly without warning, startling him. It was a familiar voice, it was Mary's voice.

"Mary!" James responds stunned, shining his light upward towards the voice, the one voice he longed to hear, the voice he would give anything for to have in his ear once more. But it wasn't her, it couldn't be her, this person looked too...different.

"Oh Maria it's you... I thought you were just a... Sorry..." Staring into her eyes, James stern and calm eyes, detecting a sense of panic and stress in her face. "Anyway, I'm glad you're alive..."

Maria's face quickly faded from frantic fear to a stern glare.

"Anyway!? What do you mean 'Anyway'!? You don't sound very happy to see me. I was almost killed back there!"

James winced as Maria's voice took on a deafening shrill tone, half scream, half scowl. It made the hairs stand up on the back of his neck, the anger, the frustration and fear, intense fear. But why did this bother him so, what did it remind him of?

"Why didn't you try to save me?" Maria continued not missing a beat, yelling with a fierce angry growl. "All you care about is that dead wife of yours! I've never been so scared in my whole life! You couldn't care less about me, could you'..."

James felt his heart fall into the pit of his stomach, an intense and overwhelming sense of guilt gripped his throat. "No! I just..."

"Then stay with me! Don't ever leave me alone! You're supposed to take care of me!"

With a sudden lunge, burying her face in his shoulder, she grips James tightly. Confused and shaken, James wraps his large arms around her holding her just as tight. They stood there unmoving, James could feel her warmth; she felt so much like Mary. Pulling back, Maria locks her deep blue eyes onto James.

"So what about Laura? Did you find her?

"Yeah" James replied, still a little taken aback. "...but she ran away."

"We've got to find her!"

"You really seem to care about her. Do you know her?"

Giving Maria pause, she turned her head to the floor in thought.

"I never met her before. I just feel sorry for her. She's all alone... And for some reason... I feel like it's up to me to protect her."

"Well now that you're with me again. No more nap breaks okay? We never know what might happen in this crazy place."


	13. Chapter 13: Maria's Requiem

CHAPTER 13: **REQUIEM FOR MARIA**

James had never seen a human being killed right in front of his eyes before. The fact this human was someone who put their faith and trust in him for protection made this death all the more horrifying. But something inside of him refused to fully believe that.

Alone, and petrified with horror, staring straight ahead in a state of total shock, he stood trying to steady his trembling arms. The old rickety but still functional elevator carried him up from the basement to the first floor of this insane nightmare hospital; while James, coated with a splattering of warm blood, sits on his knees. The vision, the last vision of Maria, continues burning itself into his brain.

The Red Demon killed her, Pyramid Head. He had finally claimed his first victim in this hellish game. It had happened only a hundred yards from the fresco painted door. The door had opened up to a long series of winding corridors, where that bastard cut them off, and with unreal speed chased them down. James stood expressionless in the elevator, in utter shock.

"My God, she was right behind me! How could I be so careless?" A pain induced groan escaping from his mouth. "Maria...I'm so sorry... Please forgive me, I tried to save you." Overwhelmed with grief, stricken with the monstrous image, James finally comes to understand why that strange note called the Red Demon an 'impaler'.

"..Oh god... oh my god. I did my best; I tried to hold the elevator door open as long as possible." James sat wincing, stricken with grief as the image of Maria's horrible fate replayed itself in his mind. James saw himself feverishly straining with all his might to hold it open for her, watching her sprint the last few yards from that long corridor leading from the strange fresco painted door; her face in a terrified expression of panic desperately trying to wedge herself into the closing elevator door.

James chuckled sadly to himself. That strange fresco door had opened, once that ring had been placed on its extended and protruding finger, as if it had never been sealed to the wall at all, though James could've sworn it must've been welded in place. With his eyes wide as saucer plates, his face pale as a ghost, James finally began to wipe the warm scarlet fluid off of his face.

"I should've stayed back, protecting her. Instead of sprinting full speed ahead. I thought she was right behind me..."

James spoke aloud to himself, his voice quivering. In his head he could still hear her desperate pleadings to open the door, and the horrible sound of that demon's heavy quick closing footsteps. It carried a spear this time, a monstrously large spear, no knife. Things had indeed changed since he came to this cursed town.

The abrupt stopping of those footsteps, the high pitched squealing of Maria's panicked pleadings, the immense impact from an invisible weapon who's visage was blocked by her frantically flailing body, the showering of hot blood that sprayed him, splattering everywhere as if being shot from a pressurized hose, and her shrill death cry as he watched those beautiful blue eyes roll back into her head, until the door finally shut closed.

James hugged his knees as he sat down in the corner of the old elevator. The only one that seemed operational, but how? How could there still be electricity in this abandoned town? Nothing made sense anymore, everything had transformed into a nightmare. And now, he was responsible for her death. Maria, his only companion was dead because of him. James fought back tears, as he tried to come to grips with it all.

"I let you down Maria. I failed you... I tried so hard to keep you safe, but in the end I could do nothing to save you." Tears finally began to roll down his face. "I'm useless...worthless. What good am I to anyone...I can't protect anybody or keep anyone safe."

In his shaken state, James stared down at his feet. Suddenly a small hint of static began to build on his radio, startled and alert, grabbing and brandishing his shotgun, James stands at the ready. But just as quickly as the static built, it faded away into a discernible sound, a voice. A man's voice sounding oddly like his own. It would seem to have been an average everyday game show being broadcast over the radio, if the circumstances weren't so odd.

_"Hi there everybody thanks for tuning in. Welcome to another exciting edition of 'What the Hell is Going On'!"_

In the background the sound of cheering from an audience became audible.

"_Here if you answer the questions correctly you win and earn a piece of the puzzle to 'what the hell is going on', but if you fail to answer correctly then you'll just be prolonging the inevitable. It all depends on you. And our lucky, or should I say unlucky, challenger today is James! James Sunderland! Are you ready to play, James?"_

"What? What in the hell!?..." James, mumbled to himself in disbelief, shaking his radio.

_"Okay, here's your first question. A crazy young lady, a giant fat loser, a snotty little brat, and a sultry vixen in distress? Who dies first because of your worthless incompetence?"_

_"Okay, quickly on to question number two. Silent Hill witnessed a gruesome murder a few years back. A brother and sister were playing in the road when they were attacked, and chopped into pieces with an axe. Torn flesh, smashed bones, splattered blood, and finally... What a terrible tragedy. What a gruesome end to such innocent lives. What was the name of the murderer who committed this vile act? And why is he exactly the same as you?"_

_"Now for the third and final question. Your wife died of some god-forsaken disease; she was a pain in the neck, and a bitter old nag. You kept her hidden away in the back bedroom. How long ago did she die? Think about this one James, the answer may surprise you."_

_"Well, that's the last of our questions. Have you got it all figured out? When you know the answers, then you'll have a good clue to 'what the hell is going on'."_

_"Well then everybody, thanks for tuning in. See you again sometime. Bye bye!"_

"The hell is this nonsense!" James snarled, stopping himself from heaving the radio into the side of the elevator. "It's toying with me, the darkness in this town. It's taunting me."

His face burned red with anguish, he felt his heart race with frustration, as tears fell in an unstoppable rhythm down his face. Holding his head in his hands, James released all the pain and anguish that had been building up inside him. All of it, from the very moment he walked into this cursed, haunted, town. But there was so much, so much pain, more than he even knew he had bottled up inside. All that time even up till now, dealing with Mary's death, with the unknown nature of her aggressive and damned illness, keeping her alive day by day, while she dissolved like a snapshot, wasting away to nothing until...

With a sudden jerk, the elevator came to a stop, opening up back to the hospital foyer. Glancing around, momentarily, James picked up his pace, heading straight for the front double doors. Holding his weapon firmly in grasp, James never even bothered to glance back as he exited the hellish place. The place he spent so much time in, the place that took the life of his companion, and swallowed Laura up in its dark grip.

"To hell with this. I've done everything I could possibly do. I... lost Maria, and who knows what happened to that snotty little girl. All I have left is you, Mary."

Stepping outside the towering structure, James took in the thick mist shrouded air. Though far from relaxing it was better than the stagnant scent of the shut up hospital. Stepping over the ravaged body of a demon still lying in a bloody pool, James makes his way back to the empty dark enveloped streets.

"Damn, now the bodies appear... but whenever I point them out to the others, they're never there. So far Maria was the only other one who saw them, and now she's..."

Preparing to plot a course deep into the old district of Silent Hill, James pauses studying his map with unsteady eyes, and sweat laden palms. Looking over it, searching for the Old Historical Society building, James takes in some deep breathes, and releases an audible yawn.

"I've come this far. What will I have to show for this nightmare, if I turn back now? Might as well keep going, and see this through to its end. No matter how grisly that may be."

The words of Ernest, real or a dream, rung in his head. "What are you going to do when you find her? Are you willing to face the truth...?"

"Do I really want to know the truth?" James asked himself. "Mary. How can a dead person write a letter? I must be insane..."

His mind quickly becoming pre-occupied with thoughts, staying alert, James takes a seat on the old weed cracked curb, directly in front of the three story hospital.

"Everyone I've met so far seems to be facing something similar. They see the same things, have the same fear; they must sense HIM coming for them. Pyramid Head, my God, he's going to kill all of us. But why us? What makes us so special, does everyone here deserve the same fate?"

Shaking his throbbing head, he could feel the sting of a strong headache.

"But surely not Laura, that little girl. She's just an innocent child, what is she doing here, in this demonic world? She said she knew Mary, that they were friends... Could her connection with Mary, have brought her here, the same way it brought me?"

James abruptly stood, frowning with great intensity. "I don't believe any of this crap. Ernest, he's just an illusion, a dream. But still if Pyramid Head is real, then maybe Ernest is too... But maybe they are all just dreams..."

Unexpectedly, the quick dash of a shadow caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. Standing on the small stone steps leading to the main entrance of the Brookhaven Hospital, the sound of small feet perked his ears. Quickly panning his flashlight in the dark misty night, James briefly caught the image of a small skirt, darting past his line of sight.

"Laura?!" James called out, running after her, pushing his sore worn out muscles.

"Wait! Come back! Please! You're the key to finding out the truth!"


	14. Chapter 14: The Old Society

CHAPTER 14 **ENTER THE OLD SOCIETY**

James entered the open doorway. It swung open, easily, quietly without effort. He panted heavily, his shotgun and pistol, now both empty. It was getting late into the evening, a glowing shadow of the moon shown above the dense mist. James studied the wooden double doors, previously locked and bolted the sign and lettering Silent Hill Historical Society printed across it.

His pants coated in dirt and soil, soil from the earth in the park, the soft moist soil, surrounding the base of that statue. The statue of a cloaked woman, the same one painted as a fresco onto that strange door in the nightmare hospital. In his left hand he clenched another scrap of paper, a new message, seemingly old and faded, one he discovered left for him, once more, at Neely's bar.

"…_perhaps you are a fool the truth usually betrays ourselves. I knew it. The evil that would be unleashed, I knew it all. Now the Society is no more, we will not survive the day. I alone, keeper of secrets, know the truth. The key to the Old Society is buried under the feet of our mistress in Rosewater Park. Thank the heavens too, for I will never go back to that building. It has become a gateway to the "other side'. May the gods never give us a reason to open it, ever again."_

A look of deep thought found its way across the stern features of James, turning the scrap over another small line of script appeared. James scratched his head, and narrowed his eyes; he could have sworn that writing had just materialized. Nothing was a shock or surprise to him now

"_One last thing. If you still insist on continuing on, James, I pray the gods have mercy on your soul."_

With a scowl, crumpling the paper into a ball, James flings it across the empty pitch-dark foyer of the Museum. It was the Old Historical

Society building, noted on his map. In his other hand, he gripped two things, his flashlight, and an old rusted key. The one he used to open the worn and corroded series of locks, binding and closing all entry to the building. Maybe, it was trying to keep something inside, instead.

It had been almost two hours since he had witnessed Maria's death, blood still stained his clothing, the image of her contorted face still burned itself in his mind. He could not find that little girl; Laura was missing, taken by the darkness, perhaps killed by Pyramid Head as well. Either way she was nowhere to be found.

Wasting the last of his ammunition on the swarms of demons, seeming to pour from every shadow and every corner, James found himself unarmed, carrying bullet less guns. He had to rest someplace, he was beyond fatigued, beyond exhausted. James was unsure how much more adrenaline he had left to run off.

In the room, the foyer, a long counter stood at the end, many brochures, and flyers detailing various events and archeological discoveries within the valley lined the walls in metal stands, gathering dust, and grime. A large door-less entryway stood astride the counter giving access further back into the building, a pole with corded rope lead down the walkway deeper into the old abandoned structure.

Glancing casually at a few brochures, James found several of interest. Most of the pamphlets, simply detailed historical and almanac records. One in particular caught his attention. It would have been quite thick, if pages were not missing or torn. It was the only one left in its slot inside the dust-laden bin. With weak and sweaty hands, James briskly scans the small print with tired eyes.

A traveler's advertisement, which was bearing the seal of the Silent Hill Town Committee. It was strange odd, and almost ominous. Acknowledging it, James took notice of the different symbols that comprised it. A group of ovals within a series of rings, several runes inside the seal and a script possibly Latin encircling the symbol. Above the seal an "all seeing eye" was dramatically ensconced and centered. Picking it up, opening its three leafs; James quickly absorbed the small amount of information printed inside it.

_Welcome to Silent Hill_

_Silent Hill, a quiet little lakeside resort town. We're happy to have you. Take some time out of your busy schedules and enjoy a nice restful vacation here._

_Row after row of quaint historic houses, a gorgeous mountain landscape and a lake which shows different sides of its beauty with the passing of the day, from sunrise, to late afternoon, to sunset._

_Silent Hill will move you and fill you with a feeling of deep peace. I hope your time here will be pleasant and your memories will last forever. _

_ROGER WIDMARK__, __Mayor_

"Yeah, I guess they choose to leave the part about this place being a gateway to hell, out…" James mumbled to himself.

Moving deeper into the structure, dodging the occasional mouse, scampering across his feet, James flashed his bright light into the dancing and twisting shadows, carefully attuned to the slightest hint of static. Realizing that he had no more ammunition, made the situation even more nerve racking. James, whose already weary body, still shook nervously, steeled himself for yet another venture into a dark unknown building; another dungeon, another seeming level of hell for him to explore. What darkness awaited him at this turn, his sanity-tested mind wondered?

Artifacts, potteries, and paintings lined the walls; a corded rope had once kept the straggling visitor from putting their hands upon sacred relics. Mostly ancient native-American items. Clay pots, arrowheads, and other ruins and relics from a distant past, a past long forgotten in the histories of modern men. James paused at one item a large leather hide drum stretched over a bone frame. The image painted in faded dye caught his attention. Standing in the middle of the long hallway, staring with stern fascinated eyes, James took in the marking.

It was a tall figure standing over smaller figures, a red figure, with a large head, and a long stick, spear, or staff. Under its feet numerous other vague featureless figures, laid horizontal, almost as if struck down by this giant. "This Red giant, this seemingly demonic humanoid, could it be...?"

James moved further down the long corridor, articles and artifacts, scenes and displays caught his vision and the beam of his light. Still no static to James' relief, still he would have to find another weapon, or more ammo, either way he was not confident with the chances of either being likely.

"The key to everything has to be here. There have to be answers here; so many clues have lead to this location"

Passing a series of paintings, James stopped, abruptly, freezing. A cold chill rolling down his back, something caught his eye. A caption, he caught it briefly out of his eyes corner. The light barley illuminating the base of each dusty work, James turned slowly to his left, backing up three steps, the words stuck into his mind. His terror-filled mind, how it rung with the sound of ringing bells, sounding a call off into the distance. As the image of it, HIM, the demon come to life, stood in front of him. There it lived, almost lifelike, seemingly poised to leap out of the canvas and come at him with abandon.

The caption, James read it. "Misty Day: The Remains of the Judgment." Artist, unknown. Circa 1890. The picture was grisly, gruesome, and dark. In the rain, drenched background, amidst a dense mist, four men strapped into racks upside down bled profusely from their chests. Their eyes were glazed, and empty betraying their lifeless state, as the executioner, a tall man dressed in red robes with a large pyramid shaped mask stood by them, a bloody spear in his hands.

"... It's him," James whispered, catching his breath. "The demon... But who is he? Was he a real person, or just a nightmare I invented in my mind? Or did I see this picture before in the past?"

James warmed himself in the freezing atmosphere; it was getting colder by the hour.

"What is the connection to this place and painting? The pyramid masked man; he's the executioner, and the impaler? He's the one who feeds off our dark secrets, our guilt, and drowns us in our own sins? Does he have some connection to reality? Is he only some kind of demon, or did he actually exist?"

He looked different James noticed, similar but different, less monstrous, and supernatural, more humanlike and real. Almost as if, he could see a real person behind the strange clothing. And the sign, the symbol on his shoulder...

"I don't believe it..." James frowned. "It's the same symbol on this brochure, the one used by the Silent Hill Town Committee."

James rested on a bench, gathering his thoughts, thinking heavily, and doggedly. Questions swirling in his brain, bombarding his aching mind with salvo's of frustrating facts. What connection did the town have to this Executioner, the Red Demon, Pyramid Head, whatever you called him? There must be more clues, more information. What was this Society, this secret society?

"The key to understanding everything must be in here." James thought to himself. "Everything has been pointing to this spot, this museum, its secrets, its knowledge, it all must be here. But like this so-called 'Secret Society' the truth exists on a different level, perhaps something more sub-liminal and hidden, something just out of sight and touch to the normal un-initiated person."

James paused flashing his beam around the darkness of the museum.

"There must be signs all around me. Signs since the moment I first entered this town, those messages, the dark powers, everything it all points to something, some truth... Mary what could it be that you're trying to tell me?"


	15. Chapter 15: Leaping Into the Abyss

CHAPTER 15: **INTO THE ABYSS**

From the edge, in a grand exhibition room, James stared into the dark hole. The hole in the floor; its boards were torn up, in this old musty chamber. Footprints, some seemingly old, and dusty, some apparently fresh, lead to the edge, and then disappeared.

"Did these people fall in?" James thought to himself. "Or did they leap?"

The words from an eerie message played itself over in his thoughts. In his hand, he held a clipping, one he found in the records of the museum, it like many of the other significant documents James had discovered seemed conveniently placed for him. In deep careful thought, still listening to the sound of static, James poured over the document once more.

_In the history of early American cultures, the Iroquois were a major power in this region of the eastern United States. Relics and efficient archeology can trace their existence in the region as far back as 900 AD. It is believed that in this valley in the Appalachian mountain chain multiple tribes of Iroquois thrived, their traces and histories all but eradicated upon the arrival of early European settlers. Prior to the establishment of colonial towns in the valley, the Lake Toluca was considered the focal point of these Iroquois's religious life. It was believed that from it the Great Spirit, rose from its depths. Many of the lands surrounding Lake Toluca were believed to possess deep spiritual significance. In the year, 1627 Norwegian settlers fleeing religious persecution from the northern colonies constructed the first settlement along its shores. Perhaps this incident coincides with the Salem Witch trials of the late 1500's._

_The settlers fought a fierce and bloody war with the Iroquois; the struggle lasted for close to 70 years, until the final tribe of the Toluca Iroquois vanished under the muskets and shackles of the Europeans... The valley was now the sole property of the settlers, but few rejoiced for it was widely whispered that the valley had been cursed. The vengeful native spirits, which guarded the valley, would supposedly extract a heavy price upon those who defiled the sacred land. According to old documents dating from the 1700's, disease, and tragedies struck the settlement continuously, many settlers left, believing the valley was cursed. Clergy from the Anglican Church as well as from local Protestant congregations, were brought in to investigate reports of spiritual persecutions. Many of them reported strange occurrences, while others met with mysterious fates. The settlement was abandoned by the late 1700's._

_At the turn of the 19th century, a new town was being constructed in the resource rich valley. Built upon its largest hill, it took its name Silent Hill from its Iroquois name meaning "The land which is silent." However, old rumors die hard, lingering gossip about its dark past began to riffle through the population of this sparse new town. Stories of unbridled violence and bloodlust between the old settlers and the Iroquois filled the pages of local ghost stories and folklore. Pits full of skeletons were routinely dug up, reminding the town's inhabitants of its violent history. It was also widely whispered that a dark secret society, thrived behind the walls of the town, hoarding secrets and practicing black magic. Strange and bizarre occurrences frequently happened in the next hundred years. People feared venturing out into the night, for they came to believe the lands were haunted._

_During the mid to late 1800's, Silent Hill began to thrive and bustle with trade and commerce as railroads laid rail line through the valley. Despite its tendency for strange and odd tragedies, the town became a favorite vacation spot for the wealthy citizens of early America. During the American Civil War, due to its convenient location and easy access to railcars, it was used to house prisoners of war. The Toluca Lake Prison was built right on the Southern shores of the lake, and up until sixteen years ago was still in use by the state. Although heavily renovated and modernized during its 120-year existence, the prison's original foundational structure and many of its original underground chambers can still be visited._

_It is said that many unspeakable acts were committed in this prison during its existence. Dating back to the times of the Civil War imprisonment, inmates were routinely subjected to brutal and cruel tortures by the guards. Inhuman means of execution, and unusual forms of extreme punishments were levied out to the delight of the wardens and those who worked in the prison. Furthermore, rumor suggests that many of the inmates were sacrificed in prevalent occultic rituals, further strengthening the gossip of a secret religious cult. Many high-ranking members of Silent Hill society became suspect to this gossip._

"This land, this town, It sits on holy ground" Musing, James staring into the black corners of the room. "Or "un" Holy ground… The occult, and the dark powers, they keep popping back up. The secret Society of highly established townspeople, were they merely fronts… elaborate fronts to shield the eyes of the outside world? What were they doing? What was it that they were trying to accomplish?"

Rigidly turning his head towards the horrid dark hole, James spoke aloud to himself. "Ground in the ground. A hole in the floor." Pausing James reflected deeply on a thought that quickly stung his mind, dissipating even quicker. The words, painted onto the newsprint, the first message he discovered, almost as if it were waiting for him, planted by some invisible hand, flashed into his thoughts.

"There was a hole here, it's gone now." James recited in a mumbled voice. "…now" He continued. "It's back… An abyss of darkness, it lays in front of me…"

James, doggedly tired, turning his sore neck, glanced at the contours of the chamber.

"This is the last room in this place… The only one I have yet to explore. All it led me to was this hole, with strange footprints disappearing at its edge."

Calmly, James began to secure all his tools, weapons, and items, bracing himself for a fall. The edges of the pit seem made of clay and dirt, and it smelled powerfully; the odor nostalgically taking him back to 'that time', three years ago. In his mind's eye, James could see it again, as if staring out a foggy windowpane; the cold snowy earth, the dark overcast sky, and the rows of stones lining the hallowed field.

In his vision, he could see himself, the man he once knew. The once strong, uncompromising, powerful man, the one who once woke up every morning next to the only person he had ever truly loved. The once proud and loving husband, now broken with grief and anguish dressed in a black suit. This dissimilar man knelt over the freshly dug earth, the scent of a fresh grave burning into his nostrils. He rested his head on the stone. Mary's stone.

Remaining In deep thought, James flung himself into the hole, into the darkness eternal, barely hesitating; still watching that vision through the fogged pane in his mind. He felt the ground leave him, he felt his body falling, falling, falling…

The air grew colder as James began falling farther and farther. His mind clouded with even more thoughts and images. He mouthed the phrase, one of the phrases he had come across in this museum, the only one on his mind, the one echoing in his thoughts as he fell through this great pit.

"_He who is not bold enough to be stared at from across the abyss is not bold enough to stare into it himself."_

James closed his eyes, stretching his arms, falling eternally, floating into nothingness.

"…_The truth can only be learned by marching forward."_

Slowly he felt his balance tip and his equilibrium change, he felt pressure on his legs, he was apparently standing. Disoriented, opening his eyes; James quickly took in his dark surroundings, gathering his bearings. It was dark, closed; stagnant air filled his nostrils, and the sound of dripping water rung in his ears. He panned his flashlight around and into the darkness.

Standing in a tunnel, glancing upwards, James stared at solid brick. There was no hole, no opening, or any noticeable means of entry in this brick walled corridor. Water flowed under his feet; it smelled horribly like decay, and sulphor. It was a sewer of sorts, perhaps old and ancient. Who knew where he was? Who knew how to escape this dingy tomb?

James moved forward, deeper into the old, rat-infested sewer, sloshing rancid fluid, on his way further into the darkened tunnel. The journey was long, and claustrophobic, James felt confined and choked in this mold-ridden chamber. Fresh air was difficult to come by, and James found himself light-headed on more than one occasion. Still he plodded on, endlessly, eternally, walking forever into this perpetual tunnel. It took all but ten minutes before the static began to rise from his radio, James had no more bullets left, and only three more shotgun shells remained.

He managed to maneuver around the first two demons that crept upon him. The last one took a firm grip on his shoulder, nearly bringing him down into the rotten water. James fired two blasts into its writhing body, until the abomination disappeared into the depths of the liquid once again. Pieces of its demonic flesh splattering him from the impact of his shell quickly rotted into maggots, showering his face and jacket. With a dry heave, James quickly wiped them off.

Before long, James resting his weary muscles, came to the end of this demented sewer tunnel, and a rusted door. Behind it lay a hallway, old, crumbling, made of concrete, slimed with mold and mildew. It stood, timelessly, with rusted metal framing, brimming with mouse droppings, and spider webs. Through it James, found an empty room with yet another hole in the floor, and yet more footsteps leading off the edge into eternal darkness. Spending only a moment of reflection, he flings himself into the Abyss once more.

James blinked his eyes. The room had changed. Like before he had fallen quite a distance, yet felt no sudden jolt or stop. Yet here he stood on his two feet, in the middle of a strange room. Around him were numerous long tables, old, dusty, dingy, some over-turned some with orange plastic chairs still pulled up to them. It appeared to be an old cafeteria, long forgotten. James was startled by a low sad chuckle that echoed through the room, the voice seemed familiar.

"Eddie?" James called, panning his light around the dingy cafeteria.

Studying the room he had fallen into, James saw only rotted ceiling and corrugated tile above him, no hole or means of entry from a fall. The place was ridden with dirt and mold, soot staining the walls in decades of grime. In front of him, directly in the line of his beam, was the large rotund man he met earlier. His gaze distant, and emotionless, he held a pistol in his right hand.

"Killin' a person ain't no big deal. Just put the gun to their head...pow!"

The corner of his eye betraying a slight image, James turned the beam from Eddie to a figure slumped over a table. Thick chunks of matter and blood splattered the wall and chair behind him. It was a human, a man in his early twenties.

A cold chill began pacing up James' spine. "Eddie? You, killed him? But he's a human like you and me…"

Frustrated and contorted, a look of angst crossed itself over the face of the portly young man.

"B,but... it wasn't my fault. He, he made me do it!"

James calmly collected his thoughts, gripping the handle of his shotgun tightly. He had only one shell left after all.

"Calm down. Why don't you relax and tell me what happened."

"That guy… he, he had it coming! I didn't do anything. He just came after me! Besides, he was making fun of me with his eyes! Like that other one..."

"Other one? Are you talking about that dead guy in the apartment building? Are you saying you killed both of them just for that?"

"Whaddya mean 'Just for that'!"

"Eddie, you can't just kill someone cause of the way they looked at you..."

"Oh yeah! Why not?" Eddie yelled back. "Till now I always let people walk all over me. They'd always push me around, laugh at me, you know, call me a joke. Just like that stupid dog. He had it coming too!"

"Eddie? What are you talking about?"

Pausing deliberately -still awkwardly, Eddie stared down at his feet. A slow giggle began to cascade from his sad features.

"Heh heh, I was just jokin', James. He was dead when I got here. Honest. Anyway, I gotta run."

"Um… So you're going back out there alone?"

"Yeah… See you around James…" Eddie replied exiting the old forgotten cafeteria.

"Eddie? Hey, wait…"

CHAPTER END


	16. Chapter 16: A Prison of Torment

CHAPTER 16 _**PRISON OF TORMENT**_

James could smell it. It smelled of an overpowering aroma of suffering. It's scent choking his nostrils, gripping his dry throat. He found it difficult to breathe. Not because of the dank, stale air. Because of the pain, and desperation that wafted around him. This was a horrid place of suffering.

It came from a long time ago; James could sense it, decades of torment. Nearly overwhelming he, he fell to his knees, on the cold, dirty, and rough cut stone flooring. He was underground, deep underground, following endless series of steps and corridors, down, down into the deepest chambers under the Toluca Lake Prison. The decaying trappings of modern life were vanishing on his descent into the original chambers of this centuries old structure.

Old abandoned, Formica desks, and rusted chairs, gave way to red brick walls, and hewn stone floors, obviously laid in the distant past. Deeper and deeper James had descended into the cellar of this old forgotten prison. More and more demons were now flying at him from the shadows of his flashlight. Each one dispatched, as efficiently and safely as possible. Many of them slicing and tearing his already oozing flesh.

James strength fading, it became acutely aware that fatigue would overwhelm him soon. He needed rest, a safe place to relax and rebuild his endurance. The cold, dirty corridor would have to suffice. He laid his back upon the floor, mice scurrying around him; his mind went back to Mary. The only thing he cared about, the only thing driving him now.

"How long? How long Mary? When will I meet you? Are you even still waiting for me?"

In the pitch-blackness of the underground lair, the scent of old rotting wood, and dank must carried him to another realm. A realm of forgotten time, ages past, he was lost in time. Lost in another dimension, he knew the forces of evil were the only company around him. The pitch darkness closed him in, his pocket light the only hint of illumination in this abyss.

He had seen them, the many chambers long forgotten in this abandoned prison. Shackles, old rusted metal bindings, linked into the wall, obviously being of use in the distant past. In his mind, he heard them; the screams of agony, the spirits haven't left this place. The souls of tortured men remained, lost, in pain, forever trapped in this prison. One could cry for them. James sat in darkness and silence, swallowing and digesting the intense pain surrounding him.

"So much pain. So much…" James winced, holding his head. "Men have gone insane here; many a man has lost his mind, shackled in this dark, dank tomb." James produced the ledger, the old book, the one he found in the musty forgotten storage room. One, which had been conveniently, placed on top of all the others, left for him to discover. On the cover the year 1903 was printed.

A list of names, perhaps hundreds, lined the pages. Many of them crossed out in a rusted dark ink. It was an ink, perhaps blood, which seemed to flake off with the slightest disturbance. A recording next to each name seemed to give evidence of their demise.

"Hanging… Impalement…" James eyes focused on those words. "Impalement?" From his weary memories, he could recall it, the article… an article he read in the museum, before its dark sinister powers had mysteriously transported him. Written many years ago it was an old piece of historical lore. It stuck out prevalently in his mind.

One particular gruesome fact of the history of Toluca Lake Prison was a cruel and unusual form of punishment; a form that would eventually be abolished pending the 1928 court ruling banning death by 'impalement'. This particular means of execution can be traced back to a macabre tradition; this tradition apparently dating to the time of European settler's., immigrants who originally founded the towns now lacing the Toluca valley.

Victims of this cruel means of execution were positioned upside down in metal frames. Their limbs restrained, bound tightly within. An executioner wearing an odd shaped mask, dressed in red robes would use a spear to impale them from behind. It is believed this grizzly ritual evolved from the belief that men must 'bleed for their crimes' earning repentance and salvation.

Though this bizarre and perverse form of execution was banned in 1928, prevalent gossip abounded of similar rituals continuing in secret. This gossip conveniently coincides with the popular legend of a secret 'Society' operating throughout the valley. Urban legends hold to a belief that the 'executions by impalement' merely served as a convenient guise for occult human sacrifice.

Motives and reasons for these rumored 'sacrifices' vary widely from story to story. As do the purpose and existence of the Society.

"Again, the Society, the Order Ernest spoke about. These people, they murdered inmates. Killed them in ritualistic ways. This executioner, the one dressed in a mask and red robes, could he be…?"

James, after resting for a few more minutes of silence, gathered his strength before standing to his feet; preparing himself for more horror, and turmoil, obsessively checking the ammunition in his shotgun.

"It's not over, not even close," He reminded himself. "Mary, I still have to find her. Have to find a way to the Lakeview Hotel; have to find a way out of this Prison."

Walking in a never-ending cascade of stairs, and corridors, littered with dirt and grime, rat droppings, and the occasional bat; James finds his way to a renovated section of this cellar-like enclosure. With scaffolding, still standing, and old rusted buckets still full of dried and hardened paint. Sheetrock, once fresh and new, now stood, dingy, and stained from the passing of time. Half put up, several stacks of it stood in the distant corner of this large chamber.

From here, James found access to a much more modern section of the Prison Basement. Still the beasts followed him, unrelentingly. James fought his way out of the bottom floors, through the grisly morgue; body bags lying indiscriminately about seemingly still full of something. James shuddered contemplating what may be left inside; left after all these years of abandonment. He continued.

However, something inside of him, betrayed a truth. James knew it, could feel it. Its presence was closing in. Pyramid Head, it was coming. Soon it would find him again. It had followed him to the prison, now it was searching… Searching for him. Its cruel spear, waited for his spine. It waited to gleefully pierce him through. The spear with Maria's blood still oozing off it, it would soon cut him down as well. He had to move and move quickly.

"There has to be a way out of here. It's so confusing. Have I come this way before? It feels like I'm just making circles. It's like… like some kind of maze."


	17. Chapter 17: The Labyrinth

CHAPTER 17 **THE LABYRINTH**

With sweat-laced skin, James breathing heavily fought back a fit of panic. Lost in this lair, a maze, a strange labyrinth, of corridors and chambers, a place that seemingly grew around him out of nowhere, James frantically raced for his life. Behind him, the steps, the horrid heavy steps of him, were closing quickly. In fits of terror, James prayed that he would not hit a dead end in this maze of winding hallways.

His eyes wide and tired, mind sharp, he quickly took in glances of each turn he came across; making split second choices, and cutting quickly in different directions, oft times having to back track, catching quick glimpses of the red demon silently and fervently chasing him, carrying his blood-drenched spear.

Exhaustion was beginning to overtake him; James was unsure how much longer he could continue. Nevertheless, he had too, she was depending on him, and James did not exactly understand everything. However, nothing surprised him anymore. Maria, she was alive. Nevertheless, how? He witnessed her death; he saw the spear of Pyramid Head, run her through. Her blood splattered his face and clothes.

He had found her, at the entryway to this maze, locked in an odd cell. It lay at the end of the underground chambers. He had approached her, befuddled, astonished. Jubilant, yet frightened, and uneasy. He watched her die, now she lives. What was an illusion, and what was real? In his mind, he recalled the interaction that ensued. He replayed the event, as he scrambled for his life. Keeping his thoughts calmed and occupied, preventing panic.

"You're alive! Maria...?" I thought that thing killed you...! Are you hurt bad'"

"Not at all, silly." Maria replied, casually sitting on a chair behind bars. Her hands in her lap, a coy smile perched on her full red lips.

"...Maria? That thing... it stabbed you. There was blood everywhere. On my shirt, on my face."

A confused look crossed her face. "Stabbed me? What do you mean?"

James continued frantically trying to recall the events in detail. "It chased us to the elevator. And then..."

"James, what are you talking about?"

"Just before! Don't you remember? Don't tell me I'm crazy!"

Maria seemed unconcerned. "James honey... Did something happen to you? After we got separated in that long hallway? Are you confusing me with someone else?" A soft chuckle echoed from her mouth. "You were always so forgetful... Remember our honeymoon?"

A chill coursed up his spine. "Maria…?"

"You said you packed everything up... But you forgot that video tape we shot of the town. I wonder if it's still there..."

James stood in utter shock his jaw hitting the floor. "What? … Aren't you Maria? Who are you really?"

"I'm not your Mary."

"So your name is Maria, right?"

"It is… if you want it to be."

"Standing up, with a terrible glare crossing his features, James grabs the bars of Maria's cell. "Stop playing games with me. All I want from you is an answer!"

"Does it really matter what name I use? I'm here for you, James… Besides, you know who I am." Reaching through the bars, Maria placed her soft warm hands on his sweat-laden face. "See? I'm real. Don't you want to touch me?"

"I don't know..."

"Come and get me. I can't do anything through these bars."

"O,Okay... stay right there. I'll be there soon."

James blinked coming back from his dream ducking under the heavy swing of the Red Demons spear. It barely missed him, sliding under his blow; James hopped back to his feet, nearly falling over. He continued at a full sprint, as fast as his sore and numb legs could carry him.

Up ahead, a doorway awaited him, an exit; a seemingly welcomed sign of salvation. Still, he had no way of knowing what could possibly be waiting him on the other side. He did not care, it would be better than staying in the Lair with this Red Demon. A few more moments of frantic scrambling brought him to the heavy steel door, forcefully ripping it open he slammed it behind him with a loud thud.

Collapsing on the floor, exhausted, no strength left, James raised his shotgun preparing for Pyramid Head to burst through, chasing him. James waited in silence and darkness, nothing. Seconds ticked by, then minutes, finally James relaxed, resting his severely fatigued body. He was horribly parched, his stomach grumbled with hunger.

Nearly nodding off James quickly hopped back to his feet. That would be that last thing he would want to do. He glanced down the length of the long hallway that spread before him several doors lined the walls. Covering the floor of this strange corridor, newspapers, old and new littered around his feet. The soft crunch of newsprint echoed under his steps. More news printings covered the walls, some stapled, some taped to them, more and more of the hallway swallowed up by a torrent of newsprint. Stumbling with cramping limbs, James tried each door. All locked. All but one, the last final door at the end of the walkway, its handle twisted fully with a soft click.

Keeping careful notice of static, he slowly opened the door; it gave out a low groan. Startled James froze; a loud and distinct yelp came from behind the wooden door. It was a familiar voice, a woman's voice, it sounded frantic, and terrified.

"No daddy! Please! Don't!"

Swinging the door open, weapon in hand, surveying the brightly lit room, James raises it aiming for anything monstrous in motion. He froze, a strange creature pulsing and grinding stood in the middle of the room. It looked as if covered with a sheet, a sheet that doubled as its skin. The flesh underneath, seemingly thrusting and pulsating in a smooth rhythm, as it closed in on a young woman, huddled in the corner.

The room itself was strange and macabre. Along the length of the walls, small circular openings, complete with flesh like pistons, pumping and thrusting violently in and out; gave James great pause, and sent chills of fear and disgust running down his neck and back. The monster clothed in rubbery sheet covered arms, reached for her.

James stared in horror as it closed the distance on Angela, the woman he had met earlier in this town. She screamed and cried, tears rolling down her face. Pausing only a moment more, James emptied his shotgun into the beast, blowing the demon to the ground with a never-ending salvo of slugs.

Placing his shotgun behind him, James quickly made his way to Angela, now cowering. "Hey, are you okay?"

Moaning, with pain, and frustration, Angela jumps to her feet, and in a mindless flurry, begins a violent cascade of kicking. Assaulting the remains of the vile creature that had previously held her cornered, she exorcised her rage.

Snarling violently, the creature gave one last roar. In the corner of the room, a television an old black and white set stood upon a vintage desk. With the strength of an enraged and panicked person, heaving it up unto her small shoulders, she slams it onto the beast.

"Angela! Relax! It's dead."

"Don't order me around!"

"I'm not trying to order you…"

"So what do you want then?" Angela sneered. "Oh, I see, you're trying to be nice to me, right? You're going to be friendly and sweet -you're going to say -"Its okay I' m a grown up you can trust me." But I know what you're really going to do and I can't stop it... I can't ever stop it. It's always the same. You only want one thing!"

"Now, wait a minute. That's not true at all."

"You don't have to lie. Go ahead and say it. Or you could just force me. Beat me up like he always did."

With a painful grimace, fighting back sobs, Angela falls to the ground.

"You only care about yourself anyway."

A series of deep dry heaves cascading from her throat, as Angela attempts to vomit out her suffering.

"You fucking pig, I HATE YOU!"

"Angela…" James reached for her putting his hand on her shoulder.

Ripping free from his touch Angela erupts with a painful scream.

"DON'T TOUCH ME! Don't you ever, EVER, touch me! You make me sick!"

Retreating James fumbled uncomfortably with his shotgun.

Wiping tears from her face, regaining her composure, Angela spoke in a dry hoarse voice.

"You said your wife Mary was dead, right?"

"Y, Yes, she was ill…"

"YOU _liar_! I know about you… You didn't want her anymore. You replaced her with someone else!"

Wasting no more words, rushing past James, Angela disappears out of the room. The sound of her footsteps, echoing down the hall, it tormented James.

Standing in a daze, struggling to understand everything, James stood staring at the remains of the horrid demon now oozing lakes of blood.

"That's ridiculous… I never…"


	18. Chapter 18: The Hangman's Riddle

CHAPTER 18 **THE HANGMAN'S RIDDLE**

"Maria, I'm coming. Just hold on." James mumbled under his tired and erratic breathing. Searching hallway after hallway, chamber after chamber, James began to doubt if he was even in the prison any more. He had seen no cells, nothing that would indicate an old abandoned penitentiary.

Rather, it seemed, he was in some kind of in-between place; somewhere stuck in a realm spanning the real world, and the nightmare world. Though seeming so random, each room appeared to serve as entryways to both realms. They seemed to have no pattern or any meaning.

His thoughts went back to Angela. "Angela, you're a lost tortured soul. I don't know how to help you, or what I can do for you. I know that someone has hurt you, wounded you terribly. It must be the pain that has drawn you to Silent Hill, just like my pain; the pain of losing Mary."

James paused. "Mary. I still haven't forgotten about you, baby. I _will_ find you. I will follow this nightmare to the very end. Maria, I have to save her, I have to get to her. Somewhere in this labyrinth of rooms, chambers and hallways is the doorway leading to her cell. Once I find her, then I can search for an exit."

A door swung open, James peering inside, taking in the dark sinister surroundings. A chamber, lined with fence-like grating, on the walls, on the floor and ceiling. There was nothing but swirling mists and darkness under his feet. However, it was not the ominous surroundings disturbing him. In the middle of this small room, five covered bodies hung, strung up by their necks, in nooses. Covered in sheets from head to toe, the sound of buzzing flies, and rotting flesh filled James' senses.

A look of sickness and disgust flooded his features; he held his breathe fighting back the intense need to vomit. The smell was horrid, and powerful. He glanced around the room with tearing eyes, the smell so rancid. A small wooden sign hung on the wall next to the doorway. Breathing through his shirt, James spent a short time reading it.

_James,_

_You think you know right from wrong. You believe your eyes and your perceptions, but just how clear are they? Can you truly judge the guilty from the righteous?_

_This room contains the rotting corpses of weak and perverse men, but only the sinless one holds the key that will bring you closer to what you seek. If you pull on the rope of a depraved criminal, then another pitiful person will die because of you._

"My God, what the hell is all this?" James wondered. "What am I supposed to do? What is so important about answering this riddle? A key? Perhaps a key that may open some of those locked doors?"

James stood outside the doorway, gathering fresh, or rather less rancid, air. "How and why, are these bodies strung up?" Shaking his head James mumbled to himself. "Does it really matter? It's not like everything else that's happened makes sense." Glancing from the doorway, James noticed a small lettered sign pinned to the opposite wall.

Holding his breathe, James approaches it, flashlight in hand. Keeping a careful distance, reading the words, James contemplates its meaning.

_"I do not wish to die._

_But tomorrow I will climb_

_The thirteen steps._

_Please someone - answer me,_

_What have I done?_

_Why must I die come the morning?_

_The man imprisoned beside me_

_Believed my innocence. "Because they're_

_All sadistic, that's why," he said_

_Of course I know his opinion_

_Will change nothing. "Now you_

_Know why I attacked them,"_

_He muttered._

_The man who was executed_

_Yesterday, the one who had_

_Been caught selling dreams,_

_Had __disagreed. But his opinion _

_Matters little now._

_But the man who is _

_To be executed__the day after _

_Tomorrow for corrupting__the purity _

_Of seven__children shouted _

_Back that it was all true. _

"_They're the perverse ones!" He screamed_

_The man who was hung today__did not _

_Answer the question. _

_"They want blood. They'll kill us either _

_Way." he said. This one was__caught _

_Embezzling public money,_

_So he hadn't any hope for mercy._

_The new one here, who is always quiet _

_And smiling lustfully to himself said _

_"I am happy to die because_

_She can no longer hide from me."_

_And myself, I do not wish to die._

_I long only to return home._

_But I know I have been marked to suffer._

_Though I have done no evil, this_

_Crime has been forced upon me._

_Someone please save me! I am _

_Undeserving of this judgment. They are _

_Bloodthirsty__and I am their sacrificial lamb!"_

"Sacrificial Lamb? A sacrifice? Just like the occult sacrifices, those urban legends that have been existing in this town for decades. They killed these people, under the guise of judgment for their own perverse reasons. Still, if I read this message right, one was an innocent victim, executed for no other reason, than the fact that wicked men condemned him.

Bowing his head, James rubbed his eyes. "No, this can't be real. It doesn't make any sense. This place has been abandoned for far too long. How could these bodies still be here? Who would create such a grizzly puzzle?"

"But the key. One of these bodies has the key."

Gathering his wits, James forced himself to study each shrouded corpse. Gently swaying in the slight breeze blowing through the room, each one had a judgment nailed to them.

Moving to the first swaying body he read…

_Rapist– He violated the innocence of the young._

It did not take James long before the remainder of the judgments had been read. All eight of them.

_Maimer – He crippled another human in a fit of rage._

_Arsonist – He burned the house to the ground; that was his revenge._

_Dealer – He profited from destructive dreams._

_Thief – He stole the ring, and the heirloom; his greed destroyed him._

_Swindler – He cheated the widow out of her last penny; he has no soul._

_Embezzler – He violated his employers trust, and his wallet._

_Murderer – He stalked and then slaughtered that which he coveted most._

"It's a message, a clue. I can feel it, it's a test. One of these men hung for their crimes is innocent, perhaps the one speaking in this letter." His mind spinning with thoughts, James closes his eyes concentrating on its meaning.

"Several are obvious, the kidnapper, the arsonist, the embezzler, the thief. They all deserve their judgment. But out of the remaining four, which one was the innocent victim. "

"The paragraph about the man who said '_I am happy to die, because she can longer hide from me.' _seems quite clear. He fits a murderer the best out of the three left. Perhaps he killed a wife or lover. So he would deserve his fate." Making a mental note, moving to the next swinging corpse, James takes a gulp of air from under his shirt.

"The paragraph about "the one who had said his job was to sell dreams"

, isn't so clear. Nevertheless, maybe, selling dreams is a metaphor for drugs. He's called a _'dealer'_ so then his guilt too is certain."

"The part about the person beside the author of the memo said, "They're all sadistic; now you know why I attacked them." This too seems convoluted. Never the less, this can easily be the crime of maiming. It clearly fits the description and the only other person left is the swindler; which in this case, the description doesn't make sense."

Pausing at the final hanging corpse, James, glancing upwards took notice of a strange happening. Tear stained blood drops, appeared from its shrouded eyes, dampening the sheet with deep red stains. James fell onto his knees, overwhelmed with the sensation of fear, and pain.

"The swindler, he was falsely convicted, and hung." James fought back a terrible onslaught of grief. "How could human beings purposely do such horrible things?"

James lowered the body to the ground, removing the tight noose from the rotting corpse. The subtle sound of a small piece of metal hitting the cement flooring, rung through the chamber. James followed the ringing sound, until he came across, an old rusted key, and a crucifix, complete with rosary beads.

Now he had the key, one that, with hope, would open a door to more answers, and an exit. Perhaps, a way for him to make his way, finally towards the Lakeview Hotel, to his and Mary's special place.

Pocketing the key, he left the rosary, placing it around the neck of the innocent man. He exited the macabre and rot smelling chamber. As the door closed, the sound of a woman weeping softly could be heard. James gritted his teeth, ignoring the onslaught of agony and sadness.

"This world is an evil place; a place of suffering and sadistic justice where even the innocent are not immune from its judgment."

The key served him well, as the steps of his feet, beat out a steady rhythm along the wooden floorboards. James continued onward, the door that opened, the one tightly sealed at the end of the long corridor, lead him to this long hallway. Was he still in the prison? Was he in the museum? How could he know anymore?

The winding walkway continued for many minutes, the maze-like halls were empty now, unlike before, when demons literally covered every square inch. It took but a few confusing twists, before he finally found the doorway out of this labyrinth. With hope, behind it, he would find either Maria or an exit. With any luck, maybe he would find both.

The door unlocked from the outside, James swung it open, carefully, weapon raised, on alert for the distinct sound of white noise. Nothing, the lit room, seemed familiar, a series of bars surrounded it, a bed and a chair had been conveniently placed to provide some comfort. A candle burned on a stand.

What gave James pause was lying on the bed. Tears filling his eyes; a sob welling up in his throat. Walking cautiously over to the bloody mess, he gazed at the lump of flesh that was once Maria. Her brains spilled out over the mattress, her head split open, her eyes wide in disbelief, glazed staring eternally into the darkness.

"No… no not again. Maria…" James his voice cracking. "How many times must I lose you? How many times must you die?" Wiping tears from his face, kneeling at the foot of the soaked bed, James tightly squeezed his eyes shut. "Again I was too late. Again I couldn't save you…"

"You died once, perhaps, some force gave me another chance; perhaps, whatever light left in this town, preserved you from judgment. But now I've proven how useless I really am." James choked holding in his grief. "Maybe, just maybe it's all a dream…" Gingerly he placed his finger in the gore splattered on the wall. It was slightly warm, and gooey. Never the less, it was real.

With a cold sneer, standing back to his sore feet, James wasted no more tears, or sorrow. With resolute, unforgiving feet, made his way out another door, at the other end of the cell, one, which also unlocked with a quick turn of the old rusted key.

Beyond the door, a strange room took shape around his eyes. It had no floor, only dirt and moss ridden earth. The room measuring 20x20ft. There were no exits, nothing noticeable; nothing to see except the old gravestones laid into the ground. Five were strewn out, three were uncovered, two already filled in.

Without wasting any time, James read the epitaphs. Something inside of him knew these graves were significant. Some strange piece of information, and enlightenment would no doubt be disseminated.

_Walter Sullivan, Miriam Kilten, Eddie Dombrowski, Angela Orosco…_

James stared in awestruck silence; it was the final stone that shocked him. The reality, stunning him into morbid silence. It read…

_James Sunderland._

An anguished howl echoed through the room, startling James. Spending only a few anxious moments searching, realizing the sound had come from his own mouth; James kicked the tombstone. It fell over. He was trembling; was it rage, or terror? James felt at a lost to figure it out. The stress, it had overwhelmed him, nothing was clear anymore.

From his open grave, he could see nothing but swirling mists. It apparently awaited him, expecting him to leap into the abyss once more. What would it mean, this time -to leap into a grave bearing his own name? Was it merely a metaphor, a warning; or was it real? Was he literally leaping to his own death?

"There are no other exits. This is it." With a moment of hesitation, closing his eyes, James left his feet; falling deeper and deeper into the open grave, into the cold darkness once more.

"He who is not bold enough to be stared at from across the abyss…"


	19. Chapter 19: A Confrontation

Chapter 19_** A CONFRONTATION**_

His breath cast fogs of steam around him. James standing in the cold air had found his way to a kitchen, a kitchen sprawled out somewhere in this prison; wherever he was. Unimportant, it was cold, very cold. He had followed it, the fresh set of bloody footprints. It led him to this room, and led on further in. They disappeared behind an old walk-in freezer.

Breaching the distance, James opens the shut freezer door. Shining his light into the shut-up chamber, halting reflexively, James' tense eyes betray his shock. Sprawled across the ground, were numerous bullet-ridden bodies. Perhaps four, which was all his limited vision, would allow him to see.

"Oh my God, who's doing this?"

A slight movement caught the attention of James. Startled, gripping his shotgun tightly; he flashes his light into the depths of the chamber. A large portly man, stood against the back of the freezer, an intimidating pistol in his hand, blood splattered over his clothes, a distant and empty expression on his face.

"Eddie! What's going on? Who are these people? Did you kill them?"

Slowly Eddie turned his attention to James. "Well, what does it look like? " He spoke slowly before the pitch of his voice became frantic. "They were busting my balls! I was just a big joke to them!" Eddie continued in a high-pitched mimicking voice. "You fat disgusting piece of shit! You make me sick… You ugly mother fucker, yer nothin' but a waste of flab and skin, that's why your momma left you! No, I'd rather shoot my self in the head, than go out with a loser like you!"

Eddie paused gathering his composure.

"Well, maybe they were right. Maybe I am nothing but a fat, ugly, disgusting piece of shit. But ya know what? Death is the great equalizer. It doesn't matter if you're smart, dumb, ugly or pretty…it's all the same once yer dead. And a corpse can't laugh at you. From now on, if anyone fucks with me…I'll kill em!'. Just like that."

Putting the gun to his head, demonstrating his intent, Eddie Imitates the final moments of his victims. "Pow…"

"Eddie, have you gone nuts!?"

"Nuts? Nuts! I knew it. You too. You're just like 'em', James." Eddie responded coldly, pointing his pistol.

"Hey I didn't mean anything. Just calm down."

"Don't bother. I understand. You've been laughin' at me all along, haven't you? Ever since we first met. I'll kill you too, James!"

Alert, and quick despite his fatigue and soreness, leaping to the side behind old boxes, James dodges the impending bullet. Left with no choice, James aims his shotgun, glancing behind cracks. Erupting from Eddie's powerful handgun, another bullet tears through the air. It shatters pieces of torn wood and cardboard around James.

"Eddie! Stop this! I don't want to fight you!"

"Forget it James, it's on now! You're gonna' die with the rest of them!"

Whipping around the edge of his protection, James unleashes three blasts from his suppression model shotgun. The blasts loud and deafening in the dark closed-in chamber. Quickly leaping back behind the stack of crates and boxes, James determinedly reloads his weapon.

A slight groan fills the closed chamber. Silent, James waiting for one long minute casually glances around his protection. Panning his light, James could see a small trail of blood led off from Eddie's previous location, down deeper into the old unused freezer.

With careful steps, slowly and cautiously, James keeping himself low moves out from his shelter. Following the trail of blood, he moves deeper into the walk-in freezer. Holding his weapon at the ready, James' ears 'perked', his light shining deep into the long room.

"Eddie you're hurt. Just drop your gun, and we can talk about this."

"Do you know what it does to you, James?" Eddies voice called from the dark shadows. "When you're hated, picked on, spit on, just cause you're different than everyone, or cause you're dads in jail or you're moms an addict; when you have to go to that stupid school day after day, knowing everyone is going to laugh at your clothes cause the only ones you can get are from the Goodwill? After you've been humiliated and rejected your whole friggin' life!" James sat with his back to his cover, gripping his weapon tightly, listening to Eddie's words. "That's why I ran away after I killed that guy's stupid dog. Ran away like a scared little girl. Yeah, I killed that dog. It was fun. It tried to chew its own guts out! Finally died all curled up in a ball. Then that asshole came after me, I shot him too… right in the leg. That pussy cried more than the dog!"

A loud gunshot erupts, blazing the room in instant brilliance, fading into pitch-blackness once more. Surprised, James ducks, diving behind another stack of old boxes.

"He's gonna have a hard time playing football on what's left of that knee." Eddie giggled.

"Eddie, you really think that makes it okay for you to kill people? You need help, Eddie!"

"Don't get all holy on me, James. This town called you, too. You and me are the same. We're not like other people. Don't you know that?!"

"I am not like you! I don't go around killing people!"

"Hah! I learned all about you James! I know what kind of person you really are! So stop pretending and let's party!"

Gunshots erupted from the massive, dark, dank, freezer. Brilliant explosions of light flashed around the chamber. Pieces of wall filled the air, particles of insulation floated around him as bullets and slugs ripped holes throughout the room. Blast after blast, shot after shot, shotgun and pistol. Several, dozens, until… it abruptly ceased.

Walking over to the spot where James saw Eddie fall, he pumped his suppression weapon once more, an empty shell casing hit the floor. It had all been a blur to James. Wheezing and whimpering filled his ears as he approached the large prone figure. Slumped in a corner balled into a fetal position, was Eddie; blood pouring from his gaping wounds.

"Eddie?" James softly called to him.

Eddie abruptly stopped breathing, his muscles relaxed, a final gurgled exhalation, announced his final breathe. Horrified, James dropped his shotgun, holding his head.

"Eddie! Oh no… I... I killed a human being… An actual human being…"

A sudden and frightening thought flashed in the mind of James. "Mary... Did you really die three years ago...?"

The notion struck him ferociously, like a million pounds of rock. Mary, when exactly did she die? The memories and images, they refused to come, despite his intense efforts to recall them.

"How can I be sure about anything now? It doesn't make any sense, I can't remember things I should, and I know of things I shouldn't. Mary, your death, I'm so confused."

James pondered these dark thoughts, on his way out of the prison; out of the deep ground, up onto the shores of Lake Toluca, behind the forgotten and abandoned structure. The path had been direct and clear, he followed the signs left for tourists which pointed the way to the exits. There just outside the prison walls on the north side of the prison shoreline, conveniently tied to an old wooden dock, was a small rowboat. Checking his map, James quickly realized that this was no coincidence. Directly across the north-western shore of the large lake, was the Hotel; the Lakeview Hotel, his ultimate destination.

He hesitated only a moment longer, untying the small rowboat, taking a seat in the old, but sea-worthy vessel. With tired arms, numb from use. James begins the long and tiresome, journey across the lake. "It will be a long journey", James acknowledged, "It may very well be morning by the time I make it across. No matter, the roads are closed off; those strange sinkholes have shut down any access to that side of town. Perhaps this is how it was intended, maybe this what Mary had planned."

With no pause or regret, James rowed himself, disappearing into the thick mist. He found himself swallowed up by the fog, only the sound of water lapping on the sides of his boat, sounded in his head. Even the birds had disappeared, their cries distinctly vanishing from the valley.

Rowing eternally, James had only his thoughts, and feelings to accompany him. "Maybe I'll be lost in this ethereal fog forever, maybe I'm destined never to make it to the other side." With no vision or sight of the shore to guide him, James stubbornly and fearlessly continued foreword.


	20. Chapter 20: The Lakeview Hotel

_**Chapter 20 LAKEVIEW HOTEL**_

The twilight was coming; the dawn would soon burst full. At least that's what the haunted man standing at the rear entrance to a beautiful Victorian mansion, hoped. Behind him -a field, a once well-manicured lawn stretched fifty yards to the shore; the northern shore of Lake Toluca. His small rowboat, rickety and old, left splinters in his palms.

James had rowed all night, oft times passing out from fatigue. The still waters, did not fail him, instead they kept him drifting in a straight direction. It was almost supernatural, the nature and placidness of the deep, dark, cold lake.

He stood, chilled, shaking, and sore. Tired, exhausted, and lonely, hungry and burning with an intense thirst. The place, the massive mansion it looked magnificent, still impeccable after all these years of neglect. A large sign covered with burlap hung over the entryway, ten years ago; it would have read "Lakeview Hotel veranda". James now stood at its rear entrance.

A large gardened patio lay under his feet. It stood, timelessly, barely overgrown with weeds and grass sprouting up from between cracks in the tile. Standing outside of this three story Hotel, James' mind wandered back to his first visit here ten years ago.

"James what are you doing?"

"What do you mean? I'm carrying you through the doorway."

"I think the tradition is for the door to our room, not the entrance to the hotel!"

Mary's laugh echoed against the soft summer wind, blowing across the grassy fields leading to the front doors of the hotel. Her eyes sparkled with a light, which seemed to wash away the bright August sun.

The brilliant warm image quickly washed away to the dull, dark, shadowy vision that now lay before him. Tall grass, almost waist high lined the lawn leading to the entryway, with that thick mist now obscuring what little light had begun to peak from over the horizon. From his vantage point, the building seemed to be in optimal condition. Still sturdy, all windows still in place, some taped in cross patterns. Nothing boarded up and nothing falling apart. It looked timeless, as if it never aged, though everything around it passed through the rotting tunnels of time.

He approached the entryway, the French doors leading to the lounge room, were unlocked. It looked the same. The furniture, the accessories -artful and Victorian decorations, were still elegant and functional. Aside from the understandable build up of dust, and the occasional sheet covering, they all seemed fresh, and unchanged.

The place seemed comfortable, and clean, compared to the rest of Silent Hill. They were more modern and less ancient and rotted. The air was slightly stagnant, and the temperature was quite chilly, never the less, the place seemed quite undisturbed since its abandonment some three years ago.

James felt as if he were walking through a memory, a snapshot of his past. It seemed surreal, as if that day had never ended but simply suspended itself in time. In his mind he recalled the old Brother's Grimm tale of Sleeping Beauty; how the princess had pricked her finger on the enchanted spindle and the entire castle was frozen in time for a hundred years.

Looking around James remembered the layout of the mansion, it was an enormous estate. James recalled the building easily and comfortably accommodating over thirty rooms and suites, not to mention a restaurant, a ball room, mail room, a tavern, kitchens, laundry and several other faculty chambers, and offices.

"That's a lot of places to explore. But luckily, I only need to find one room; our room, the only room that matters."

With concern and quiet steps, weapon loaded, James begins moving through the large elaborate mansion. Tapping his radio, turning the volume up, James assures himself of its operational status. Moving through a swinging door, finding himself in a large hallway, several other doors stood spanning the length of the corridor. Glancing around casually, James begins a path towards the master stairway.

A slight indiscernible sound catching his attention; stopping abruptly, turning quickly, James follows the direction of the barely audible noise. No static, he grips his shotgun loosely, allowing his guard to drop. Walking to a set of large double doors, hesitating briefly, James softly opens them with a push.

The softly obscured glow of dawn began shooting its beams through the thick mist and windows. It was generating small amounts of ambient illumination, aiding the use of his flashlight. He was standing in a restaurant –The Lake Shore Restaurant; the one he and Mary had dined at many years ago.

Tables were still set, with dried wilted flowers. Place settings and some tarnished silverware still sat neatly lined on the yellowing linen table clothes. A series of swivel doors in the back gave access to the kitchen no doubt. Quickly studying the chamber, he turned to leave. Without warning an _earth-shattering "__**BONG"**_ sounded through the room.

Jumping with a startled yelp escaping from his throat, James felt the hairs on his neck stand up and a frigid tingling chill ran up his spine. Frozen with terror for an instant, James heard a higher single note, quickly pelted out from a large grand piano centered at the back of the dining hall. In a fit of panic, James frantically panned his light, resting it upon a disarming image; a little girl in a blue dress with blond hair.

"Did I scare you?"

Holding his chest, with his mouth dropping slightly, James arched his stern eyes. "Yeah you did, it wasn't very funny."

"Oh well… I was only joking." The little girl mused, jumping from behind the piano, walking past James and sitting on a nearby chair.

Gazing bewilderedly at Laura, James laid his weapon on a nearby table. The little girl glanced fully at James, the first time she had made direct eye contact with him. "You're here to find Mary, aren't you, James? Well... have you?"

"No..." James replied. "Is that why you're here, too?"

"She's here, isn't she? If you know where she is, tell me! I'm tired of walking."

"I, I wish I knew..."

Laura's voiced wavered for a moment. "S,she's has to be here. She said it in her letter..."

"Letter? What letter?"

Standing up, reaching into her pocket, pulling out a sheet of folded paper, Laura extends her arm out towards James.

"…Wanna read it?"

Gently receiving the letter, confused, and conflicted, James begins unfolding it.

"Promise you won't tell Rachel, okay?"

"Rachel?"

"You don't remember? Ms. Rachel was our nurse. I took it from her purse. I know it was wrong, but I needed to know where Mary went."

"Laura…" James paused awkwardly. "Mary… she's…"

Leaving his words unfinished, James, holding the sheets steady, begins to read the strange letter. He could barely believe it, feeling his muscles tense and his heart rate rise, it became keenly obvious this was Mary's handwriting as well.

_Dear Laura,_

_I'm leaving this letter with Rachel to give to you after I'm gone. I'm far away now, but in a quiet beautiful place. Please don't be upset with me for leaving so suddenly, and for not saying goodbye. It's not my choice to leave, but sometimes things happen that even grown-ups can't stop._

_Be well, Laura. Don't be too hard on the nurses. And Laura; about James... I know you hate him because you think he isn't nice to me, but please give him a chance. It's true he may be a little grumpy sometimes, and he doesn't laugh much. It's only because he's sad, not mean. Underneath he's the most kind and gentle person I've ever known. _

_Laura, I love you like my very own daughter. My prayer and earnest wish is for you and James to become just as close as you and I. If things had worked out differently, I was hoping to adopt you._

_Happy 8th birthday, Laura._

_Your friend forever,_

_Mary_

"Laura?" James thought to himself. "My god, did I know you before? Do you know me? Nothing makes sense in even the slightest way."

Turning around, looking for the little girl. Noticing her drawing pictures in the fog stained windows James approaches her.

"Laura... How old are you?"

"Um, I turned eight last week."

"Eight? Eight… How can that be true? If that's true than she couldn't have… three years ago… Could she really be here? Is this the 'quiet, beautiful place' she was talking about?"

"Me and Mary talked a lot about Silent Hill. She even showed me all her pictures. She really wanted to come back. When she went away, her letter said she was in a beautiful place. So that's why I came here."

Dumbfounded, James glazed eyes stared out through the windows into the featureless fog. "You,… You really knew her. Didn't you?"

"Hey, maybe you'd like to see the other letter... The one Mary...huh?" Reaching into her pocket, the little girls eyes grow wide with shock. "Oh no! I must have dropped it!"

"Laura…"

"I gotta find it!" Frantically running past James, Laura darts out of the room.

"Laura! No! Come back!"

Chasing her out of the room, down the main hallway, James quickly lost track of her. She was too fast, his legs were too sore, he was too exhausted. He rested, nearly falling over, on the check-in counter. Laying his head on the rough wooden surface, the mail bin behind the counter caught his attention. Several pieces of mail gathering dust remained in the slots. However, it was a faded note taped to the one marked 312 that perked his interest.

_MR. James A Sunderland has left the following article in his room. One VHS Video Cassette. He did not leave a forwarding address, item will be kept locked in Lost&Found safe, in manager's office._

"How could this message still be here after ten years?"


	21. Chapter 21: There Is a Secret

**Chapter 21: ****'THERE IS A SECRET'**

_Lo_

_There is a secret._

_as dark, and deep as the sacred lake_

_Which lies in the seat of the valley_

_Ancient glamour's lieth under its depth_

_The seat of the gods._

_The darkness that grows_

_Be harvested, and fed upon_

_Like the blood of the sacrifices, it demands._

_In a garden it shall be tended_

_It shall yield its fruit in a season._

_Sing forth the ritual, call upon its promises_

_The power of life and death shall be yours_

_Now speak your desire_

_For I am the Crimson One._

_The lies and the mist are_

_not they, but I._

_You all know that I am One._

_Yes, and the One is I._

_Believers hearken to me! _

_Twenty score _

_Men and seven thousand beasts_

_Heed my words and speaketh them_

_To all, that they shall ever be_

_Obeyed even under the light of_

_The proud and merciless sun._

_I shall bring down a bitter vengeance_

_Upon thee and thou shalt suffer_

_My eternal wrath. _

_And you shall be made pure._

_The beauty of the withering flower_

_And the last struggles of the dying_

_Man, they are my blessings._

_Thou shalt ever call upon me and_

_All that is in me, _

_in the place that is_

_silent._

_Oh, proud fragrance of life _

_Which_ _flies towards the heart. _

_Oh Cup_ _which brims _

_with the whitest of_ _wine _

_it is in thee, that all begin._

**Opening Stanzas from… -The Ritual of the Scarlet Birth-**

_Behold_

_In here is a tragedy_

_That took place_

_For no audience_

_be that as it may the end is near_

_all go on and lead toward death_

_the first words at thy left hand_

_are false lunacy that now go dancing madly round_

_hearing unhearable words drawn to a beloved's grave_

_there they happen; _

_true venomous worms, as did this one, playing the devil_

_find true contentment at last._

_Killing an unnamable number _

_She pierced a heart rent by sorrow._

_Both lies and truth. _

_Doth verity beware a mask of falsehood?_

_Oh how pitiful, the reasonable ones_

_Still in its lies she slew the weak and the pitiful in mercy…_

_but the end cometh not_

_Wherefore yearn the death, therefore attend to the beloved. _

_Truth and lies, life and death._

_A game of turning white into black and black into white._

_Excerpt from… 'Book of All'._

James fumbled with the pages of the old leather bound book, a strange and macabre writing, found in an odd section of the small makeshift hotel library. LOCAL FOLKLORE

The passage entitled 'The Ritual of the Scarlet Birth' rung particularly familiar in his mind. This worn tome titled the "Book of All" was filled with odd prayers, philosophies, poetry, and occult references dating from early colonial America. It seemed almost pointless, as if written by lunatics with a depth of intensity and insight only understandable by other lunatics. From just a quick flip through, the names Lillith, Lobsel Vith, Uriel, Valtiel, and Xuchilbara were all mentioned within it's pages. God's and Angels, it called them; the servants of God.

The book hinted at ideas and concepts not overtly discussed or addressed within the work itself. Furthermore, the chapters seemed loosely connected; it was if the words in the book only hinted at greater and deeper meanings. James flipped threw a few more pages.

Other works also caught had caught his attention too. 'A History of Toluca Tragedies.' In it were discussed a series of the most famous disappearances and odd happenings in the near 200 year history of the Valley. Among interesting entries, catching James' attention was a recited oral tradition dating back to the first European settlers of Silent Hill.

_The town's name comes from the legend of the people whose land was stolen from them. They called this area "The Place of the Silent Spirits." By "Spirits," they meant not only their dead relatives, but also the spirits that they believed inhabited the trees, rocks and water around them._

_According to legend, this was where the holiest ceremonies took place. But it was not the ancestors of those who now live in this town that first stole the land from these people. There were others who came before._

_In those days, this town went by another name. But that name is now hopelessly lost in the veils of times._ _All we know is that there was another name, and that for some reason the town was once abandoned by its residents._

Other tragedies were likewise detailed in its pages; odd stories of a fisherman in 1955, diving to unhook his son's line in the shallows of the lake, possibly a flooded area of the Toluca Lake Prison Cemetery, never coming back up, and his remains never being found. Others apparently and meticulously detailed, but deliberately torn out, continued to make up over two thirds of the work.

_Legend of the Lake_

_Toluca Lake, the town's main Tourist attraction. This clear, beautiful lake has another side as well._

_It may seem like just a typical ghost story that you might find in any number of old towns_ _across the country. But in this case, the legend is true. On a fog-bound November day in 1918, the Little Baroness, a ferry filled with tourists, failed to make port._

_A newspaper article from back then simply says "It most likely sunk for some reason". Despite_ _an extensive police search, not a single fragment of the ship or any of the 14 bodies of_ _passengers or crew has ever been recovered to this day._

_In 1939, an even stranger incident occurred…"_

James flipped through the immense amount of torn out pages.

"_Many corpses rest at the bottom of this lake. Their bony hands reach up towards the boats that pass overhead. Perhaps they reach for the companionship and warmth they lost to the lake."_

There was so much, so many clues, so much information here; a plethora of knowledge. In his mind, he knew it, James knew this Hotel was an important place; he was wise for coming here. The riddle, the puzzle of this demented land was solving itself before his eyes. His mind was teasing him with a sense of enlightenment, something just on the fringes of his knowledge and understanding. Indeed something did exist, just out of his reach. Just a bit longer, a little bit further, and the truth would eventually be his.

'His', just like Ernest had prophesied…

Flipping through several more pages his fingers came to rest on one more point on interest in the large Book of ALL, the most interesting of tomes. This particular passage was titled "The Beginning".

_THE BEGINNING_

_In the beginning people had nothing_

_There bodies ached and there hearts held nothing but hatred_

_They fought endlessly but death never came_

_They despaired stuck in the eternal quagmire_

_A man offered a serpent to the sun and prayed for salvation_

_A woman offered a reed to the sun and asked for joy_

_Feeling pity for the sadness that had overrun the earth_

'_God' was born from those two people_

'_God' made time and divided it into day and night_

'_God' outlined the road to salvation and gave people joy_

_and 'God' took endless time away from the people_

'_God' created beings to lead people in obedience to Her_

_the 'red god' Xuchilbarra, the 'yellow god' Lobsel Vith_

_many 'gods' and angels, finally 'God' set out to create 'Paradise'_

_where people would be happy just by being there_

_but there 'God's' strength ran out and She collapsed_

_all the worlds' people grieved this unfortunate event_

_yet 'God' breathed Her last, _

_She returned to the dust, promising to come again_

_so 'God' has not been lost, _

_we must offer our prayers, and not forget our faith_

_we, Her Church, hope and pray for the day _

_when the path to paradise will finally be open…. _

_AMEN_

"The truth can liberate you, set you free. But it can also consume you like an eternal fire…" James recited to himself. He would have to be careful, he sensed it now. The danger, the smell of damage that wafted over him, he was playing with fire now. Whatever he strove to understand would be potentially devastating, and destructive.

"These are mysteries and secrets not meant for common men to understand. I wouldn't have paid any attention to this nonsense on any other day, but now… This 'red god' could he be…?"

"Laura…" James thought interrupting himself. "Where did you run off to this time? There is so much I need to ask you." In his hand, he held it, the tape, the dusty, VHS cassette. The one he and Mary had recorded many private moments during their honeymoon, their tour of the parks, the lakes; their moonlight carriage ride through the streets.

"How could it still be here? This tape, the odds?" James paused as he stood up leaving the small library room." He was close very close, close to that room. The room he and Mary had occupied. Room 312 it was only two floors above them. James had procrastinated, delayed going there. How he longed to see her again, but now, there were so many questions so many doubts. He was afraid… but why?

He had not seen a single demonic form in this place. For its worth it had seemed remarkably unremarkable thus far. No static, no demons, no crazy hallucinations, nothing except him and Laura. Nevertheless, Laura had vanished again, her damned small and quick feet, left him far behind once more. He had considered waiting for her to return, down in the restaurant. However, the burning desire to find the truth, made him impractically impatient.

"Laura has come this far by herself. Nothing in this place seems dangerous… I just can't sit and wait all day for her…" James rationalized. He had searched so hard, come so far. He could not let a slight set back, stall him anymore.

Spending the last two hours scouring the floors of this abandoned, well-conditioned establishment, James had retraced his memories. Like old film replaying in his mind, he traced every step, every room, every meal every one, except for that one -the only one that mattered; their room, their 'special place'. He had avoided it, almost being strong enough to enter it. But he didn't, something wasn't right. He wasn't as prepared as he thought he was.

James stood up abruptly. He had wasted enough time.

"I have to do this. I need to get this over with. Mary… I'm coming."

CHAPTER END


	22. Chapter 22: The Truth

**Chapter 22: ****THE TRUTH**

The dawning light, cast itself across the room. Room 312, it was the twelfth room on the third floor. Daylight had broken, though morning had come, it was of little comfort to James. The mist was thick as ever, and the light was shadowy at best, overcast, oppressive. His body cast long shadows across the hallway, from the window. In his mind, he could still see her, Mary. Like a ghost on the chair by the window, he saw her brushing her long locks of soft brown hair. He reached for her… nothing. Just air and echoes of the past.

"Mary? Where are you, baby?"

He was alone. There was no person, no Mary; nobody, just his shadow lying itself prone across the rooms floor. It was clean, immaculately clean, and well kept. Dust had started to collect on the furniture, never-the-less, the bed looked as if it were made this morning.

"Has this all been a dream? Am I crazy…"

"No James, there is more sanity in your thinking now, than when you first began this journey…"

James did not turn, recognizing the voice. "What's going on? Why can't I find her? Why can't I remember her like I should?"

"It would be difficult for me to tell you, James. That will have to be something for you to confront on your own."

"I thought Mary… I know Mary died three years ago. But…"

"James, remember what I said about truth? Things we believe, our perceptions? They may not be completely true in themselves, but they serve to reveal even greater meanings."

"What I think about Mary." James contemplated. "It may not be… the truth?"

"Yes… and once you come to grips with this, then you can start your journey towards the truth."

"But Mary… where is she? You said she would be here."

"No, James I never said that. You were only hearing what you wanted to hear."

James stood silent, stress draining down his face.

"I am so lost, Ernest. All this time I thought I knew what I was doing. I had bet everything on Mary, being here. Half of me feared seeing her, but the rest of me knew I could never go on without making peace with her…"

A long silence ensued.

"Let me tell you a secret James." Ernest's slow quiet voice broke the pause. "The only things that are judged and burned in Silent Hill are the parts of your life you won't let go. Your memories, your attachments, your regrets and sins; they are all judged and burned away in this realm."

James stared down at his hands, they were black from dirt and blood, sore and cut.

Ernest continued. "But that doesn't have to be the end. So if you're afraid of facing your judgment and are holding on to the parts that are being burned; you'll see devils trying to tear everything away from you; your life, your sanity, everything that you cling to so desperately.

But, if you've accepted the truth and made peace with your judgment, then you can finally let go. And then you'll see these devils become angels, who are removing your burdens and freeing you from your pain."

"My sins…" The words stung James as he stared at the window where he had so desperately hoped and feared to find Mary. "I always knew. Somehow, I always knew there was a secret, something I was hiding from; more than just the pain of losing her."

"I know James."

A long pause ensued. "James, it's time…"

"…Time for what?"

"Time for you to watch that tape…"

In his hand, he held it, the tape. The dusty, VHS cassette. It was the one he thought lost so many years ago, the one he and Mary had recorded many moments during their honeymoon, their tour of the parks, the lakes. Their moonlight carriage ride through the streets. An older television set, with a VCR connected to it, lay unplugged eternally waiting for usage. Perhaps since the curse first embraced the town.

"What's on it…? "

"Only the truth… and only what you leave behind in your heart…"

Contemplating Ernest's cryptic statement, James with shaking nervous hands plugs the TV and VCR into the sockets. Half expecting them not to work, he was mildly surprised when they flared to life. How could electricity still be available in this town? He turned to ask Ernest, only to notice that he had once more vanished; leaving him alone to face his demons.

He placed the tape into the player, turned the channel to three, and nervously anxiously waited. He felt the urge to vomit; panic and fear began to set in. What would be on this tape? Lines and patterns began to scramble over the screen appearing slowly. The image tediously warmed up, becoming visual. It was their movie.

A bittersweet smile crept over James' mouth; his eyes began to well up. It was her; Mary, and him. She was so jubilant so vibrant, she had her whole life ahead of her. In addition, he was so much in love. Captured upon it, were scenes of the beach at the lake, the garden outside the hotel, and in their room. He loved to tape her; she was so photogenic, so sweet and mild, so gentle; with her disarming smile, her soft skin. He stared awestruck into this lost memory; the video playing foreword. In the movie, he could see her sitting in the same chair in the same room ten years ago. Her ghostly image smiling into the camera and her angelic voice speaking across the boundaries of time, repeating the same words said there so long ago.

"_Are you taping again? C'mon..."_

"_Of course, this is 'our' place now. Why not preserve it?"_

In her green pajamas, her favorite ones with the white trim. Mary sits brushing her long hair. Staring longingly out the window.

"_I don't know why, but I just love it here. It's so peaceful. You know what I heard? This whole area used to be a sacred place. I think I can see why. It's too bad we have to leave... Please promise you'll take me again, James."_

Stepping towards the camera arms open, Mary moves towards her companion. Suddenly stopping, a series of rough guttural coughs begin to overtake her, softly at first, then alarmingly deeper and deeper, becoming more intense until she falls to the ground in uncontrollable fits of hacking. The camera unceremoniously drops leaving nothing but a view of the floor while the sounds of her coughing and his feeble attempts to help her played on in the background.

Burying his eyes in his hands, James turns his vision away from the TV. "That was when we first knew… Even back on our honeymoon, we both knew something was terribly wrong. If we had only tried harder to find out the truth. If we had seen one more doctor maybe, not ignored it or shrugged it off. Maybe you'd still be alive today…"

James turns his attention back to the TV something had changed. The image on the TV it was different; possibly copied over, sometime in the recent past. Gritty and snowy it was impossible to make any features out, reaching foreword to eject the tape James froze. A shaky picture, hazy and distorted materialized on the screen. A cold chill raced down his spine, it was footage of… of their bedroom.

"No… What? That's impossible… we didn't live there at the time. But it's not even 'our' bedroom, it's the… the back bedroom."

James eyes widened in shock, Mary, it was her, footage of her sleeping. In a perfect first person view the camera focused in on her startling James; she was horrid. Her face swollen, globs of hair missing, brilliant bulges of purple and red blotted her face. James jumped back out of the chair, hand to his mouth. It was a horrible disgusting monster. It was a vile demon, a creature, not unlike the others haunting him in this realm.

Staring a bit longer, he watches her stir. Mary, it was her. She was a monster. Pitifully she begins to hack and cough, weakly she moans drearily, and in pain. Another image came into focus, shortly blocking out the view, it was another person's back. A man's back. James recognized the jacket; it was a green jacket.

Softly the man rubbed her back, gently comforting her. He leaned over kissing her tenderly on her forehead. In his right hand, he held a pillow. He straightened her body out, making her more comfortable; he fluffed her pillow with his free hand, and began to add another.

But then he stopped. Something happened.

Quietly and solemnly, with but a moment of hesitation, _he lowered it down on her face. _

James gasped, in horror.

A barely audible yelp escaped from Mary's mouth, as the strong arms held the pillow firmly in place. A muffled scream sounded through the pillow, she flailed wildly as the murderous arms exerted more and more force to hold her convulsing body down. Another garbled scream, and then another, a few more seconds of ghastly struggle and… the picture faded out into static.

James's eyes widened to the size of saucers. His mouth contorted in a silent scream of agony. Unable to speak or make a sound, the pain, the intense pain, assailed him like nothing before. His limbs twitched, in angst he choked on his own tears that refused to fall. He longed to scream, to wail, to yell out and curse God. But how could he? God was not the one who took Mary after all…"

"On my God…" James grimaced. "Oh my God… What did I DO?!" James groaned hoarsely dropping his head completely into his large dirty hands. Try as he may, in such immense pain, James could not fall a tear from his eyes. A pain almost as unbearable as the event he just witnessed. "No… please God no…" He whimpered in a tearless sob.

In utter devastating shock, James sat in silence; unable to move, unable to think. Even if Pyramid Head himself would arrive, James would offer no resistance. That pain riveted him to the spot, the uncompromising overpowering pain. Never in his wildest dark dreams would he have envisioned this truth. Nevertheless, how? How could this be possible? Still deep inside his heart, he knew it was no lie.

"Ernest, all this time you tried to tell me…"

The sound of the door swinging open didn't faze James, nor did the sound of feet scurrying towards him. If death were to take him now, he would offer no resistance. How could he justify fighting for his own life, knowing that he had taken Mary's? He deserved death, and worse. He could scarcely imagine a purpose and reason to live anymore.

"So there you are, James. Did you get the letter? Did you find Mary? If not, let's get going already." Pushing on James' shoulders the little girl emphatically motions for him to follow her. "Okay?"

"Mary's gone. She's… She's dead." James coldly replied, an empty blank expression on his face, no emotion in his voice, or attempt to move evident in his posture.

A frantic painful look crossed Laura's sweet face.

"You… you Liar! That's a lie!"

"_**No, it's the truth**__..."_

Tears rolling down her face, Laura choked back an impending sob.

"She... she died 'cause she was sick right?"

"_**No... I killed her**_."

Laura's face went blank and her fists tightened, while gazing hopelessly at an unresponsive James.

"No, no you couldn't… you wouldn't …. Y, You, You… YOU KILLER! I HATE YOU! I want her back! Give her back to me!"

With all the rage her little frame could muster, Laura begins assailing James with punches from tiny fists and hard kicks from her shoes.

James remained still, balled up, his hands around his head.

"I knew it! You NEVER CARED about her! I HATE YOU, James!"

Tears rolling down her face, screaming at the top of her lungs; Laura waylays James with a torrent of pain and hurt.

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! She was always waiting for you! ALWAYS!... why?... WHY?!"

"I'm sorry..." James replied standing up avoiding Laura's blows. "The Mary you know isn't here."

Sobbing, Laura runs out of the room, inconsolable.

"Laura!" James yells. "I'm so sorry…"

Standing in his well of pain and guilt, James grimaces clenching his teeth in angst. Falling back into the chair, he sobs again in his hands; shaking his head, unable to loose the tormenting memories racing in his mind.

Static erupting from his radio, failed to give him pause, so great was his hurt. It was the words spoken that got his attention. It was her voice, it was Mary's, and she sounded desperate.

'_James_, _where are you? I'm here! I'm waiting for you. Please_ _come to me!'_

Standing up, reaching for his radio, James fumbles in his pockets for a few moments, struggling to release it.

'_Why did you kill me, James? Do you hate me? Is that why you won't come?'_

"Mary! Wait hold on! Where are you!"

' _Please hurry. Are you lost? I'm near. I'm waiting nearby, James. please. I want to see you, James. Can't you hear me? James... Please, James... James? JAMES!"_

In a fever, James screamed into the radio. "MARY TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE!"

Just as suddenly the radio dies out, only the soft sound of white noise static echoed; the sound growing louder by each second. They were coming; the beasts had finally found him. Cocking his shotgun, James stands determined and resolute. Mary is here, dead or alive. He heard her voice; he was going to find her. Opening the door moving back into the hallways, everything had changed.

Darkness and decay had crept over the previously well-preserved hotel. The place now seemed centuries old, the walls burnt and rotted, the decorations dilapidated; the ceilings in several locations falling in on themselves. It seemed as though the place had burned down ages ago, and then existed in this state for a hundred years. It was a dark tomb of it's former self.

How far in the future had James progressed? Was it time that he was dealing with, was it reality, or just another illusion. As the blaring noise of a distant siren rang through his head, fading back and forth over the sky, James knew the dark forces had found him at last. He had a short reprieve, now the fight and the game would begin anew.


	23. Chapter 23: Facing the Executioner

**CHAPTER 23: ****THE EXECUTIONER**

James kept moving forward. Blood and puss exploded over the walls over his face, over his clothes. He still continued. The world around him dissolving and rotting into a shell of its former glory, decaying with every subtle step foreword. The static roared again, another demon lay in front of him. He cocked his pistol; he discarded his shotgun in the last room. Running out of ammunition, James was certain he would not find any more shells in this hotel.

Emptying his pistol on the way to an exit, James became aware of a frantic reality. This time not only the surroundings had changed but so had the layout. What started as hallways in an old well-maintained hotel, quickly turned into a labyrinth of epic proportions. Burnt rotted, floorings, ceilings, and doorways lead to other wings, and floors. He found himself transported from room to room. Exiting one room, only to find himself re-entering it on the other side. It was a place of madness. Throughout it, James could sense it closing in. Pyramid Head, he had arrived. In the halls, the haunted water drenched halls, his spear, waited for him.

Freezing droplets of water dripped heavily in a horrid symphony. It was almost a shower, a freezing cold shower. James his hair slicked, from the wet misted air, continued foreword. Mary waited for him. Somewhere in this cursed place, the confrontation waited for him. She had been calling him since he first entered the town. Maria, Laura, Eddie and that girl Angela. They had distracted his mission, but no more. The final piece of the nightmarish puzzle awaited him, perhaps and most undeniably, HE waited for him. The Red Demon, the Tormenter, Judge and Impaler. He assumed the form, the form of his darkest thoughts, his morbid nightmares.

James had finished with his shotgun, but now he carried a new weapon. One he had found in the rustic lodge room. The quaint room full of animal heads he discovered during his first un-eventfull round of explorations. It was a rifle, a high-powered hunting rifle. He had enough bullets, large hollowed point bullets, enough to wreak severe havoc at even distant ranges. Those he had saved for the battle that was inevitable; a confrontation of epic proportions. He would finally have it out, with Pyramid Head for the last time.

It began subtly almost unnoticeable, small flames, burning around him; the temperature rising from that of a cold cooler, to a humid and burning heat. The intense and heavy scent of soot and smoke began to congregate around his nostrils. Step after step, room after room, the heat roared and roared, soon from shivering to sweating, James became unsettled. Something dramatic was approaching, something was happening. Fate was interceding he was meeting it.

Finally the Labyrinth of nightmare like rooms in this burnt out shell of a hotel, gave way to James determination. It surrendered to his will to leave; it could no longer hold him. A final stand was all the dark forces had left. Nothing could steer him from his destination, James continued unaffected by the horror around him. He had survived so much, what could possibly rattle him now.

The last door of the maddening maze opened to the Hotel's familiar foyer. The rot was gone the water receded. Had not the flames of hell been burning intensely around him, all would be normal again. The room was ablaze, the smoke choking him. Still James pushed foreword. Stairs led up in front of him. Perhaps the powers had not given up just yet. In the real world, this foyer would have lead to the front doors. Undaunted James continued.

Fire encompassed him, refusing to let him pass. James continued, unafraid, and unimpressed. He knew the powers did not want him to climb them. He refused to allow them power over his mind and guilt. However, this time the flames burnt him, cooked his flesh. James howled, retreating abruptly. An image appeared in the flames in front of him, hearing his scream of pain. It walked straight through the fires, unaffected. A woman a young woman in a dirty sweater stepped in front of him.

Holding his wounded and scorched flesh, James acknowledge his doomed compatriot.

"Momma! Momma, I was looking for you."

Confused a little alarmed, rattled, and distracted James retreats slowly from the approaching Angela who strangely was moving freely inside the inferno.

"Now you're the only one left." Angela continued "Maybe then... Maybe then I can rest."

Cautious and disturbed James retreats readying his rifle.

"Momma, why are you running away?"

Placing her hands on his face, then on his shoulders, then on the sides of his head, Angela examines his face closely, before backing timidly away.

"You're not my mother. It's you... I, I'm sorry..."

Staring with kind eyes James's empty wounded soul burned forth with compassion. "Angela, no... it's okay. It doesn't have to be like this, you can wake up from this nightmare."

"Thank you for saving me... But I wish you hadn't. Even momma said it... I deserved what happened..."

"No Angela, that's wrong! Don't you ever let another person tell you that again, ever!"

"No. Don't pity me. I'm not worth it..."

Unsure of what to say, James recalling her previous traumatic response to his touch, gingerly and slowly reaches out for her. Finally permitting a touch, she sobs.

"You're the first man I've ever willingly allowed to touch me."

"Angela, you don't deserve all this. Whatever happened it wasn't your fault. The rest of us, we're guilty… But your crime, you don't deserve to be punished for it."

"Yeah, like that's supposed to make everything alright!" She paused in a fit. "Maybe you think you can save me? Will you love me' Take care of me' Heal all my pain'" Her voice pitching a shrill sarcastic tone. "Save your pity."

James did not respond.

"That's what I thought. James. Give me back that knife. I know what I have to do."

Angela stepped forward, reaching her hand out towards James.

"No... I, I won't." James refused. "I won't let you hurt yourself."

"Saving it for yourself?"

She wasted not another word, slowly turning, walking up the burning staircase. It was too hot for James to follow; the flames swallowed her up as she ascended the stairs, the stairs to hell. It was over for her.

She had given up. There would be no atonement. In her mind she had hoped to make it quicker and easier, hoped that James would surrender the knife. The one she had used to kill her father in a fit of insanity and rage after ten years of rape and abuse.

She had taken her revenge, and burned that house down, killing her indifferent family in the process, and like James, was confused and drawn to Silent Hill by an unknown connection and powerful feelings of suppressed guilt.

Beside himself in thought, James contemplated Angela's parting words.

"Me? No... I'd never kill myself..." He paused sweating fervently watching helplessly as she disappeared into the flames. Not sure of what to say, his mind still dealing with his own demons and guilt he spoke the only words that came to his mind.

"It's hot as hell in here…"

"You see it too?" Angela's voice carried from inside the inferno. "For me, Silent Hill is always like this."

"So, this is what Hell is like…" James mumbled to himself.

"Angela…?" He hoarsely and softly called her name. But she wasn't there, her form and shadow in the flames, gone. It was too late; she had surrendered herself to the forces of judgment and evil; swallowed up by the burning fires of Hell.

James would have cried for her, if he had any tears left. Turning somberly, exiting the room. There was nothing left to see… He opened the next door; still in a daze, almost detached. He had dealt with killing Eddie, learning the truth about Mary, and watching Angela surrender, throwing herself into Hell's fires. Therefore, he was quite surprised and alarmed with the room that should have been the foyer opened into a morbid and nightmarish execution chamber; when the panicked pleadings of a familiar voice echoed throughout the room, calling James back to attention.

"Maria!" James yelled.

In the center of this twisted and rusted massively constructed chamber. Maria tied, bound upside down in the frame. The frame of judgment, used for Impalement, the same one he saw painted in the bleak portrait at the Historical Society. "Misty Day: Remains of the Judgment". The image stuck out in his mind.

Next to her stood HIM. Pyramid Head. The damned Red demon flanked her on both sides; two of them. Each one identical, each one monstrous, each one carrying the same damned spear, oozing blood. The situation called to James, he was steeled, and angry, resolute and scarred. He only lived to slaughter the demons that dared torment him, and harm his friends.

"Leave her alone! You bastards!" James screamed. "You want me! Come and get me!"

Aiming his rifle, he put one of the monsters directly in his cross hairs. Waiting for there next move, he did not have too wait long. Two massive spears skewed her from behind; spraying her blood once more all over the metal and concrete chamber.

"NO! Maria!"

James pulled the trigger; the rifle had a powerful kick. The monsters moved in slowly and deliberately, spears raised closing into striking range. Still James fired and aimed, fired and aimed. Filling each demon with as much lead as was possible. He ran and planted, aimed and fired. Ran and reloaded, aimed and fired. It became apparent he was getting nowhere. It did not take too long before the somber reality of limited ammunition gripped him. He was empty. Still they came like lumbering giants, powerful, full of hate. Nothing could stop them.

"NO! You won't beat me! I'll never give in! You may have taken Eddie, and Angela. But you'll never have me!" James growled, reaching into his pockets the only thing his fist closed on was the knife. The blood stained butcher knife Angela had given him. The one she used to kill her father in a fit of insanity and rage.

Fearlessly he charged them, knife in hand.

"YOU Bastards, I've got something for you!"

His aim true he speared one in mid charge, relentlessly he sliced and chopped, hacked and slashed. Fragments of flesh and cloth tearing around him. James continued in a fevered pitch, waiting for the mortal blow to fell him. However, it never came. Slowly they backed up. James relented waiting for their next move.

They turned their backs to him, and walked away. Stopping abruptly in the middle of the room, there they fixed their spears into a large crack in the concrete flooring, and with a sudden jerk, threw themselves onto their weapons; impaling themselves under the chin, into the brain.

James stared, dumbfounded. "What the hell?.. This knife, Angela's knife."

"You hold an item forged from Angela's memories and pain." Ernest's voice called to him. "Your compassion empowered the blade. Your resolute commitment to the truth guided it; demanding the beasts to relent."

"I, I don't understand…"

"Accepting the truth and letting go of the lie, has weakened the grip this realm holds on you. You see, this world reflects your restless dreams, your thoughts, your memories. But you have wounded the Darkness and now your love can free you from this nightmare."

"Love?"

"Yes James, Love. It was love that brought you this far; it is love that can redeem you. You must make peace with her, James. On the other side of this nightmare, she is waiting for you."

"You mean, Mary!? But I thought you said I needed to let her go?"

"Yes and you do need to let go, but I never said she wasn't here."

"But the doors will not open they are sealed." James observed

Look in the flesh of the demons. Where you sliced them open the keys that will unlock the exits from this world can be found."

Somberly and tentatively James approached the silent giants. They looked terrifying and intimidating. Fearing they would wake at any moment, he nervously thrust his hand inside the deep gashes he had inflicted upon them. The inside of the demon was unusual there was not fluid or organs, just thick almost claylike flesh as far as he could see. Eventually his hand closed around an object, on oval object, he pulled it out.

"An egg?"

"That is the shape they take in your world. Eggs are a symbol of rebirth, of renewal, of new life. They symbolize what awaits you on the other side of those two doors."

"So it's over then? The nightmare is finally over?"

"Not yet, one more hurdle awaits you. The final hurdle. You must confront HER. Place the eggs in the shaped indentations in the doors, and they shall open a new path for you. A path back to the world of reality, out of the nightmare; but there awaits a final guardian, one who will not let you pass so easily."

"I see… At least an end is in sight."

"James you have accomplished, much more than I thought you could. Keep strong in your love, believe in the good, and keep Mary's memory with you always. It will serve you well in this final confrontation."

Opening the doors, the doors leading out of the nightmare, finding himself in familiar and normal surroundings, James exits the demonic realm back into the hotel foyer; the real foyer. He makes a determined path out the front door. Opening it brings another surprise. Instead of the outside, a new extremely long hallway lays in front of him. It seems the dark powers had indeed, refused to give up. Just as Ernest had predicted.

Determined steps lead him defiantly down its seemingly never-ending length. He marched down it for several minutes it seemed. However, in his mind, he searched, and searched. The memories he had repressed, the pain, the truth, he began to recall the important fragments. The room amplifying his thoughts, re-sounding them like an acoustic chamber, billowing the memories to his ears in a supernatural and audible format. Whispers and conversations from their life together surrounded him, all overlapping each other.

His thoughts went back to Mary. In his minds eye he could see that event, the one that lead him to his final desperate and immoral solution. The echoes of the past -the voices of that conversation long ago wafted through the air overpowering the other sounds and voices until it was the only thing he heard. Surrounding him in perfect clarity he relived that memory as he pounded his weary footsteps down the endless hallway.

"_Uh, Mary?"_

"_What do you want, James?"_

"_I, brought you some flowers…"_

"_Flowers? I don't want any damn flowers. Just go home already."_

"_Mary, I…"_

"_Look, James, I'm disgusting! I don't deserve flowers. Are you just trying to make fun of me? Between the drugs and the disease, I look like a __**monster**__…"_

"_Well what are you looking at James! Get the __**hell**__ out of here. Leave me ALONE already!"_

"_I'm no use to anyone now. I'll be dead soon enough anyway. Maybe, today, maybe tomorrow… It would be easier if they just __**killed me**__…"_

"_But I bet the __**hospital**__ is making a nice profit of all this, they want to keep me alive… Are you still here! I told you to go! Are you deaf and worthless?"_

"_Good riddance, don't come back!"_

…

"… _No, James… Wait… Please… Don't go… Stay with me… I didn't mean what I said. Please James, I need you. I can't face this on my own… I don't want to die…"_

"_James… Tell me I'll be okay… Tell me I'm not going to die…"_

"_Please God, help me…"_

James pretended that he had never heard her sobbing pleas that day, instead he had made his way down the long hallways and out of the hospital. But her words cut him deeply in his soul, the guilt choked him. How could he have just walked away from her like that? How could he have just abandoned Mary in her darkest hours? What right did he have to claim aggrieved status? Mary was the one who was dying, she was the one stuck in a hospital bed, not him. How could he have been so selfish and cruel.

Still, these events had set in motion, that fateful day, that day…

"That day! Three days ago … My God, she died only three days ago. Mary's funeral was… yesterday!" James sobbed, the lie and fog lifting from his mind. "I've been losing my mind in this nightmare… This damned haunted nightmare, I can't wake up from…

Laura was right, she hadn't lied. Mary _had only died, three days ago._ But an even darker question now picked deep into his soul. Was it the darkness that had clouded his memory or had James been lying to himself on purpose all along?


	24. Chapter 24: Day of Judgement

**CHAPTER 24: ****THE DAY OF JUDGMENT**

A long and arduous ascent, step after step, landing after landing. The rusted metal stairs lead up and up along the mildewed brick side of the structure. James continued climbing, his legs burning with excruciating soreness and fatigue. He had come such a long way, such a far way. Now he had to go a bit further. What more could be waiting for him? What was it all worth now?

The truth had come to him; he now knew the dark and horrible secrets, from which his mind had tried to shield him. The pain, the torment and unbelievable grief, that had crippled him, blinded him and nearly drowned him, had finally been resolved. He had become aware.

However, what price would he pay? What sentence would he serve?

James knew, he finally had come to grips with the truth. The truth that he was a murderer- a killer, one who had preyed upon the most innocent and weak of people. On one who trusted him; put their care and life in his hands.

Mary, his true love, his partner and best friend, lover, and soul mate. He had done the unthinkable; he put the pillow over her face, ending her life. Choking it out of her, watching her fleeting breathe fail.

Tears brimmed, and guilt choked him, as his numb legs slowly made their way up the never-ending staircase. Rain dripped, in a slow soaking rhythm, chilling him to his very core. He shivered as his breath cast fogged clouds around his mouth.

She had made no movement or an attempt to struggle at first. Nothing but a small startled yelp, escaped from her mouth. But, then the panic of realization set in, and she began to struggle violently under the overbearing weight of his arms.

James gulped and swallowed sobs, as he recalled pushing down harder on her flailing body while she tried to desperately squirm free from his ruthless grip. Her muffled screams became extreme in pitch as her weakened body thrashed under him. Her frantic resistance was met by his empty indifference, as the horror of suffocation gripped her last moments of life.

Her legs kicked upwards, the sheet fell off the bed. James pushed harder, and harder… and harder. She swung blindly at his arms slapping at his hands. He heard her choke and gasp behind the pillow as her movements slowed, slower, slower… until there was only one last faint whimpering sob. And then… silence. The image burning itself in his mind was almost too much for him to bear.

He choked back uncontrollable fits of panic, and sorrow. Sobbing intermittently, groaning, and shaking his head in anguish. He let it all out, all the pain and anger, confusion and fear. He had to confront it -the horror, the amazing onslaught of reality and torment. He had to get a grip on things, he had to prepare himself for what he knew inevitably had to happen next.

"Mary… Are you still out there? After everything, after all the truth, and the signs, will you still be there; are you at the end of this nightmarish journey, maybe even at the top of these stairs, waiting for me?"

James had prepared himself for a reunion with a loved one thought lost, but now in his heart of hearts he felt it, that instead it would bring damnation and retribution. A final showdown, a confrontation of pain and sorrow the likes he had never known or expected. It waited for him, at the end of this long winding stairway. She waited for him…

After a lengthy climb up the seemingly never-ending metal steps, a landing begins to appear over his head. The steps leading directly into the floor; a grated, fencelike flooring. Through it James could see brick walls and no ceiling, just mist shrouded sky.

As he finished the final steps up to the landing of this strange and ethereal room -stepping away from the steps onto the grated fencelike flooring, the stairway fell away, silently without a sound. It dropped from the landing, dropping away into a misty abyss.

James watched it dissolve from his vision, leaving him stranded in this strange room with no obvious means of escape. However, the room was not completely empty. In the center, directly in the middle of this large ceiling less room was a bed, a single sized bed, with familiar dressings. It was the bed, the bed where Mary had spent the last few weeks of her life.

James would have invested more time acknowledging it, had another image not caught his attention. One from the corner of his eye, distant, leaning against a windowpane, staring outside. James moved closer. She wore a dress, a beautiful peach and white dress, her hair was long and brushed meticulously neat. She was small, petite, and the smell, her smell, it wafted through the air. The smell of fabric softener, and perfume. That special perfume, the one he had bought her so many years ago.

He approached her slowly and deliberately. It was time, finally, what he had longed for, what he had come to this town for, it was finally upon him. The meeting he desired more than life itself. Now the truth shined a new light on this reunion, …the truth was so horrible.

What, he wondered, what would she say? What would he say? What could the victim freely have to say to their murderer? He had betrayed her, taken her life, and for what purpose? A selfish one. Because he could not bear to share in her torment a moment longer. Now was the Day of Judgment as Ernest had tried to warn him. Now was his comeuppance, his reckoning was at hand.

All the time as he approached her, James, in his mind kept telling himself. "Mary, you deserve your vengeance. You were my sacred love, my everything. You were so afraid of dying and I delivered you into death's cold embrace".

He took the final steps towards her, towards Mary. She remained, staring out the window, wistfully, longingly, waiting…

"Mary? Is it you? After all this time, this journey through hell and horror, have I finally found you at last?"

Turning abruptly meeting his gaze, her eyes locking on to his. James studies her features, her hair, her clothing and style. It was her. It was Mary. She looked exactly how he'd always pictured her in his warmest most vibrant memories. So beautiful without a hint of disease or sickness.

A long pause ensued, James eyes widened in disbelief, Mary's narrowing, a slight sneer beginning to cross her lips.

"When will you ever stop making that mistake? Mary's dead. You killed her."

The expression drained off his face, as James furrowed his brow.

"Maria…? So, it's you… You're the final hurdle… It was never Mary… It's been you all this time, hasn't it?"

"Well, James, what do you think?" Maria scoffed.

"But why? What do you want from me?!"

"You were always so predictable James. Never admitting to yourself what you really want. Spending your whole life wallowing in pity and regret."

"No.. that's not true. You don't understand me at all." James objected.

Maria shook her head. "You never wanted that wife of yours to begin with. Then that ungrateful hag, really flew her true colors once she got sick, didn't she"?

"You don't know anything about her." James backed away.

"But I am her… James. I am what's left of her inside of you."

James glared. "No, that person is a lie. It was something I created to justify what I did. That means you're a lie too. A false Mary, one created from my warped perceptions of what she once was. Bitter, spiteful, angry and vindictive…."

A dismissive laugh erupted from her throat. "You must be joking! You really believe that?"

"I'm not joking, and you're not an answer. You're just another part of this nightmare, but I don't need a lie, or an illusion, now I have the truth."

The expression in Maria's face drained. "What did you say? You don't mean that…"

"I do. It's over, I don't need you anymore."

"James! You don't understand. I was made for you, born from your deepest wishes. I'm the perfect Mary and I can be yours… I'll be here for you, forever. That's what you wanted!"

"No" James eyes narrowed. "That's not what I want."

With desperate motions, Maria dramatically moves towards James.

"But… But I'll never yell at you, or make you feel bad! I can be better than Mary, I'll be different. How can you throw me away?!"

Backing away pushing Maria's arms from him, James stern eyes meets Maria's desperate pleadings with scorn.

"That's just the problem, _you're not Mary_. Now I understand… I admit it, I needed you. I needed all of this, this nightmare, this journey through hell. I needed it to punish myself, to make myself suffer and pay for what I did."

James continued with steady resolve. "Ernest was right; he realized it all from the very beginning. All this time, I was so confused, I could not understand how everything just leapt from my dark imaginings, my restless nightmares. But he knew I was drowning in a nightmare of my own creation."

Maria stood speechless with a look of shock painted on her face.

"The Darkness summoned me to this haunted realm through my sins, connections and guilt. My memories, my fears, my regrets -they all provided material for it to judge and torment me. I couldn't let Mary go, and at the same time I refused to face the reality of what I had done. In the end I have only myself to blame for all this."

James paused, staring deep into Maria's face, the frantic earnestness evident in her pleading eyes. "But you, Maria, you were something… different. Always there to remind me of… everything, always there so I could watch you die, again and again; each time, feeling like I could never protect you."

James shook his head, his mind contemplating terrible things. Yes it made sense now, the riddle, the shroud of illusion, and the game that the darkness had been playing on him. It was horrible, it was demented and worst of all, he deserved every bit of it.

"You're just like all the other demons in this damned place." He continued. "All these demons that I brought to life… brought to life by… my guilt and pain!" James voice shook. "And the evil that was born inside me… when I took her life away!"

"No!" Maria gasped in shock. "How, can you say that?"

"It's not hard to understand now. You see I created you from my deepest wish to find Mary, to be reunited with her. The darkness here, whatever it is, was all too eager to oblige in its own perverse way."

Pausing James stared sullenly at the woman who appeared so much like his beloved wife. "It created… you. But you're not Mary… You never were… and you never will be."

Even as he gazed into her clarion blue eyes, it seemed implausible that his conclusion could be true. However, deep inside his heart, and more importantly in his mind he knew it was absolute.

"Maria… You're just a copy. You're a product of the darkness in this town, I don't know exactly who or what you really are, but I know that you're not Mary. And, now this needs to end. Maria its over, I'm done with all this. I'm done with you."

Reeling from James' stern push of rejection, Maria's face contorts with anger and hurt.

"You just think you're so smart don't you…" She seethed, her voice pitching to a painful scream.

"You really are a pathetic loser! You'd actually chose her over me! But it won't happen! I won't let it! NO!"

She screamed even louder; her voice contorting to an inhuman demonic pitch "I won't let you! I'll never let you have your precious Mary back! YOU DESERVE TO DIE TOO JAMES!"

Startled from Maria's sudden outburst of rage, James staggers back, watching her twitch violently. Convulsing at a surreal rate, her movements became one giant blur almost as if someone had pressed fast forward on a VCR.

Jaw agape in disbelief James gazed awestruck as Maria quickly mutated into a horrific image. Sickly, gangly, with a mottled complexion, a dirty and soiled set of pajamas, teeth half-rotted, sharp and protruding from her deformed jaw. Her body, strapped upside down, in a crucifix position inside of a rusted metal frame. It was a morbid caricature of Mary in her last days, her beauty robbed from that fatal disease. It had tentacles, long vicious looking tentacles with sharp mandibles, fluttering out from her back, while she floated suspended upside down tied into that bed frame.

James backpedaled furiously, trying to find a way out of this enclosed chamber. From her open mouth, she coughed up blood -clouds and showers of blood, which, in-turn, quickly transformed into a swarm of large black moths. They angrily charged at James in a wobbling cloud of fluttering.

Swatting at them, with great fervor, James fought relentlessly to ward them off him. They swarmed his body, biting and gnawing with great intensity, racking his flesh with fiery pain. He glanced up, in time to watch the horrific blasphemy of Mary, close in on him. Backing into a corner, James found himself in a precarious position.

It was a monster, a horrible monster, disgusting vile and angry. Almost like a memory brought to life from his dark dreams. It was 'her'. Mary returned to life by the dark powers, this time to exact final justice on him. His love and soul, now resurrected, in the form of Maria, to execute the perverse wrath of the dark powers.

All this time James was sure, it was Pyramid Head, which would eventually catch up to him. Now facing the final challenge, he had become keenly aware that both Maria and the Red Demon were the embodiment of the same evil. The Evil, which had taken form from his darkest thoughts, and his guilty secrets. Now James understood how the town 'knew' him. His connection to Silent Hill drew him here, and his sins bound his judgment to it.

Everything here had been brought to life, through his guilt and inner-torment. The dark powers had fed off it, drunk from his soul the dark secrets, and built a nightmare realm to torment him. Outcome was no longer important; justice would be exacted one way or another.

But not without a fight.

Standing over the oozing abomination that James once called Maria, he calmly reloaded his rifle. He was surprised how simple it was to gun her down. His, mind now swimming with thoughts and feelings, they were coming clearly now, everything. Everything that he had forgotten, or buried deep in his mind, all the memories, all the truth, he had sub-consciously repressed. He remembered everything now, as the fog lifted from his memory and from the land itself. Becoming visually clearer.

The air began to thin, the wind died down, becoming more passive, James' mind becoming sharper. Images, thoughts, and voices began to toll in his head. Things, which having been repressed or forgotten, flooded back into his consciousness. Yes, he had finally become aware. The confusion melted away, along with the thick mist that had surrounded him throughout his journey.

Maria, the abomination, a mockery of everything Mary once was, twitched in pools of thick clotted blood. Spitting up the scarlet fluid, in hacking gasps of breathe, her deep blue eyes locked on to his, intermittently she softly pleaded with him from her prone position.

"James. James please… James no. James… I only wanted you to love me.. Jam…"

He paid no attention, wasted no words, or delayed a moment longer. Reloading his weapon, he casually aimed it at Maria's head -point blank range. Then with only a second of hesitation, James pulled the trigger.

As the sound of the blast reverberated through the room, everything began to swim out of focus. The room quickly became dark, fading away into an abyss.


	25. Chapter 25: In Water

CHAPTER 25: _**IN WATER**_

James closed his eyes. "It's finished. The nightmare is over."

Unsure of what was to happen next, he opened his eyes. The room had changed completely. He was no longer in a surreal morbid room, it now looked familiar, very familiar. It was his house, the bedroom, the back bedroom. From a window, bright light flooded inside. James was sitting in a chair by a bed, the same bed he saw in that ceiling-less room where he had battled Maria. However, this time, it was a normal, and there was someone in it.

A svelte, small framed woman, with long unbrushed hair, and green pajamas lay comfortably in it. Her face, swollen and bruised, dark splotches of color dotted her previously beautiful features. Her breathing becoming deep and fast paced. James smiled slightly, gently holding her weak hand.

"Mary it's you, isn't it. This is really you!"

She gripped back, turning her tired head towards him, smiling weakly.

"..Yes..its me James, I've been waiting… for you.. I, I'm so… so glad you came… I'm so glad you found me… I was worried… worried you'd forget your promise…"

"I'm sorry I took so long. I had many loose ends to tie up. But I'm here now honey." James responded, quietly, as he brought her hand to his lips kissing it gently.

"I'm…. so glad… to be able… to speak with you…" Mary weakly responded from her bed. "There is so much… I needed to tell… you…"

"Mary." James interrupted. "I… I'm so… sorry for what I did to you… For hurting you. I'm so sorry… Please forgive me…"

"James, I told you I wanted to die. I wanted the pain to end."

"That's why I did it baby; I couldn't just sit back and watch you suffer like that."

"I understand James…"

"No" James confessed closing his eyes. "I'm just lying again. The truth is..."

James paused catching his breathe, fighting back a sob.

"The truth is… you also said you didn't want to die; that you… needed me. But, I… I hated you! I hated what that disease turned you into. What you became… I wanted you out of the way! I wanted my life BACK…" He sobbed softly in the warm light of the room as he attempted to catch his breath.

"James" Mary calmly replied, putting her soft hand to his face. "If that were … true, then why do… why do you look so sad?"

Staring down at his feet, a tear rolling down his face, James didn't respond.

"James you hurt me… you hurt me so… badly. You killed me… for whatever reason… and now you're suffering… terribly for it. But that's not… not what I wanted… It's enough… James it's enough… I only ever wanted what was best for you… I love you… so much."

A slight pause ensued, James wiped his tear stained face with his free hand.

"James, I want… you to do something for me…" Mary continued in her soft weak voice, quietly catching her breathe between pauses.

"Anything baby… anything" James hoarsely whispered, maintaining a firm protective grip on her weak soft hand.

"I want you… I want you to let me go… and go on with your life… The letter… the letter I left for you… there's another part to it… there are many pages… please find them… and read them…"

"No… Mary. You can't ask me to do that." James pleaded in a whisper. "I can't let go. I can't bear to abandon you again like I did at the hospital..."

"Oh, James is that… what you think? Is that what's been… tormenting you? You feel that you… that you abandoned me when… you walked away that d… that day I yelled at you? No, James… you were always there for me. No matter how… horrible and difficult things became…. I… I understand why you did it…. It was so hard, I know… I was so angry… but despite it all you never truly left me… Even until the end, you were there… with me."

With weak shaky hands Mary gently lifted his face to match her loving gaze. "James, listen to me… you don't have anything more to be afraid of… or ashamed of…. I love you … and I forgive you. Now it's time to… wake up from this nightmare. It's time for you to go home… and let go."

"I, I love you so much Mary…" James choked while gripping her soft hands tightly as he gazed at her sickly visage through teary eyes.

"And I love you…" Mary smiled back "I'll always love you..." Locking her loving gaze onto his for just a few brief silent moments, James caught a glimpse of the simplicity and purity of their love when it was young and fresh. Before the disease or this cursed town ever trespassed into their life. Suddenly Mary's body jerked, her limbs trembled, then with a sharp intake of air the spark from her eyes dimmed forever.

"Mary!" James cried, her head falling back lifelessly into the pillow once more. In the bright warm sunbeam through the window, James buried his head into her waist.

"This was how it was supposed to have been, how it should've ended. What right did I have to play God, who gave me the right to take your life?"

James stopped thinking, and released an onslaught of grief and anguish, his intermittent sobs and hot painful tears watering Mary's limp body. Her lifeless corpse, still warm with that soft scent, her scent, the perfume that he put on her every morning even until the day he took her life.

Everything was fading, melting around him, the room dissipated with the clenching of his tight hot eyes. A strange feeling of passing struck him, and a slight and obvious change of equilibrium. Opening his blurry eyes, James found himself once more at the entrance to Silent Hill.

Staring out around him, now standing at the old rest stop, the place where the nightmare had begun, he acknowledged his new transportation. How long had he blacked out, how long since he finally met and reconciled with Mary in their room? How long had he been walking, had he truly ever entered Silent Hill at all? It was daylight, perhaps morning, yet still dim as ever.

However this time, thankfully the damned fog had finally lifted. His vision clear, and crisp for the first time in this hellish realm. But now, everything just seemed more rotted, and more grey. His eyes surveyed the dim illumination of the overpass where he first entered into this nightmare, parking his worn but trusty vehicle.

He checked the dirt for his footprints but couldn't seem to tear his vision from the dodge sedan still parked in the old weed covered parking lot. His mind numb with thoughts, guilt, and remorse, James could scarcely imagine returning to his empty house, or a life haunted by memories of her. Slow and sore, in a daze James began a long walk towards the car.

Approaching the vehicle he ran his dirt stained palms across the cold surface of the top. "Now I know the real reason I came to this town." James thought to himself, climbing inside casually fastening his seatbealt.

"I wonder. What was I so afraid of?" Steady and unyielding, quickly starting the ignition, shifting into gear, James hits the accelerator. Gunning the car forward steering the dodge straight towards the bluffs overlooking the valley of Lake Toluca.

"I ran from everything. All the terror, monsters, and judgments thrown in my path. I lied to myself, I told myself I was innocent, that all I ever tried to do was love her." Jumping and pitching violently the car hops the curb onto the old uncut grass leading towards the drop, James hit's the accelerator even harder.

"I don't deserve to live. Besides without you, I have nothing."

The sound of the engine screaming in open air, echoed through James' head as the car runs over the guard rails through the safety posts and sails over the embankment; the sudden drop lurching his stomach into his chest as his sedan sails through the air, down towards the Lake; the ancient Lake, the sacred Lake Toluca.

A tremendous splash explodes around him as the Brilliant blue surrounds him, the cabin quickly filling with cold freezing water.

"Mary, now we can be together…"


	26. Chapter 26: Endings

**CHAPTER 26: ****ENDINGS**

In the aftermath, after the freezing blue had overtaken him and the watery world surrounding him had faded out into blackness. James lifted his eyes.

"James" A low male voice called to him. "What are you doing? Why did you do that?"

"Ernest?" James answered.

"This isn't a solution… you can't do this."

"I have nothing to live for anymore, that's at least one thing I've taken from this nightmare."

"Why are you so sure of that? Don't you even want to know what was in the other portion of that letter Mary sent you?"

"So you knew there was more to that letter?"

"Yes… but not at first."

"Does it even matter? Who knows what happened to it anyway?"

"Usually the condemned do get a last wish…"

"What are you saying? You have the other part to Mary's letter?"

"I know where it is. If you want to read it, you'll have to go back."

"Back where?"

"You know where. Out of this place, and back into the real world. Back to the place where you crashed into the lake, drowning yourself."

James stared down at his feet there was no ground. "The truth, about Mary. You've been trying to tell me… this whole time."

"James, there is more to life than just suffering and guilt. I, I know this first hand."

Ernest's voice paused within the darkened void.

"Don't you understand if you give in to your guilt and pain, then the dark forces have won. They will own your soul; you will be forever lost in this forsaken realm, like the others. More than that, you'll forever be trapped in your own fears, anger, and remorse. You'll never wake up from your Dark dreams. You cannot end it this way, there is redemption, and there is another path, another world outside of Silent Hill. Go find it."

James seemed to detect an obvious tone of experience wafting from Ernest's words. "How do you know so much Ernest, how do you fit into all this?"

"I am not so different than you James; I've been here before, in this exact same position, in this exact same place. I know what torment is like. Not just hurt and sadness but real numbing pain, that devastates, where you barely can feel anything or make sense of reality. …I gave up, stopped fighting, I surrendered to it, I let it take me. I want to make sure that you don't make that same mistake."

"What happens now?"

"Now, you can go back. Where you're needed. Where you can redeem what's left of your time."

"But I'm dead."

"You'll be awake soon. You're body has floated free from your car and surfaced on the shore.

"How is that possible? I drowned."

"The spirits within the Lake can be pacified with offerings. You should already know this from your journeys."

"So I'm alive?"

"I suppose this is goodbye then James?"

"But wait. What about you? Are you lost in this nightmare too? What will happen to you?"

"…this is where it ends for me. This is the trade off; I can't go back after this… The Spirits can demand a strict price for such things."

"For helping me? I… didn't know. I'm so sorry Ernest."

"No, don't be James… The love between you and Mary, it allowed me to see that there was still something pure and good out there. It woke

me up, James. It allowed me to catch a vision of something I lost along time ago. Now I can finally leave this place, I can see Amy again."

"Amy?"

"Farewell James. The love between you and Mary is what keeps your souls united. Hold her in your heart… and you will always be connected."

Suddenly James opened his eyes from the edge of the freezing Lake; he shivered in soaking wet clothes. He was exhausted, tired, hungry, and dehydrated, now freezing to death. In his mind, he pondered over the things Ernest had told him this time.

"Another part to the letter? Where is it?" He fell onto his back, ready to pass out, his appendages numb from the cold.

"James! James!" Cried, a small voice.

Glancing over the embankment with weak tired eyes, he took notice of the form of a small girl in a skirt and sneakers.

"Laura?" James, weakly responded.

"James I've been looking for you! Are you okay?"

Rushing over to his side, Laura propped him up to a sitting position. "James tell me what to do! You're not gonna die too are you?"

Matching her gaze, shivering uncontrollably James replied. "..N,no, Laura I won't die, I promise. Why are you helping me? I thought you hated me, don't you remember I hurt Mary. I killed her, why do you want to help me?"

"Because Ernest told me everything!"

"Ernest? How do know Ernest?"

"He's my friend! He told me you were sad, that you didn't mean to hurt her, and said I should give you the other pages of Mary's letter!" Thrusting a stack of neatly folded papers to James, Laura helps him back to his feet.

"You're helping me, after all the mean things I said and did?"

"I know you're not a bad person, James. Even though I hated the way, you treated Mary in the hospital. Ernest told me too, he showed me that you really loved her, and that you were sick too."

With shivering hands, James opens the neatly folded papers, and adding his first page with the others, begins to read the completed letter, this time start to finish. But the first page he had received in the mail; it was different now. There were many extra words and sentences on it. Lines that were never there before.

How much had he been lying to himself? How much had the darkness confused him; clouded his mind? Or was it the darkness at all? Had he been purposefully repressing the truth, only choosing to see what he wanted to on that single page?

Killing her was not the end, in itself, it was simply a means to escape from the nightmare of his life; to free Mary from her suffering and to free himself from it as well. But he had made his choice in a vacuum of selfishness and indifference. He had convinced himself of the rightness of his cruelty, so numb was his heart and mind from the endless barrage of misery. But in the end his life became empty and meaningless without her.

Mary, he had wanted to find her again, he wanted to meet her once more; where they could ultimately be reunited. Reunited in a moment of time where they were free and happy, where it was perpetual summer. Could that overwhelming desire have caused a split from reality? Could part of his nightmare been born from the very psychosis that had led him to his final immoral decision to end both he and Mary's suffering?

He glanced over the pages with wet trembling hands. It made so much sense now. How could he have completely fooled himself? The words all melded together so perfectly , as if they were always intended to sound this way. Now combined with Laura's contribution, the message which had previously been so ominous -almost threatening, now seemed loving and longingly sweet.

James allowed one last tear to fall as he read it. Mary, her last words, the one's she had always intended to say to him but ran out of time; ran out because James had hastened her passing. Now previously denied, James had a second chance to make peace with his best friend, and soul mate. 

_James,_

_In my dark restless dreams, I can still see that town… Silent Hill._

_You promised you'd take me there again someday. But you never did. Well, James, I'm alone there now...In our 'special place', waiting for you… waiting for you to come to see me. But you never do.._

_And so I wait alone, in my dreams and in my hospital room, wrapped in this cocoon of pain and loneliness. But still you never come. I know it's because I've said and done some terrible things to you. Things you'll never forgive me for. I know I've hurt you deeply and I wish I could change all that; take back everything I said. But I can't._

_I just feel so pathetic and ugly laying here, waiting for you. Ugly both inside and outside now. Every day I stare up at the cracks in the ceiling and all I can think about is how unfair it all is. How I don't deserve all this…_

_The doctor came today. He told me I could go home for a short stay. It's not that I'm getting any better, it's just that this may be my last chance. Our last time, my final opportunity to make things right between us. I think you know what I mean._

_Even so, I'm glad to be coming home. I've missed you terribly, I really have. But I'm afraid, James. I'm afraid that you don't really want me to come home. Whenever you visit, I can tell how hard it is on you... I don't know if it's because you hate me or pity me... Or maybe it's just disgust you feel... I'm sorry about that._

_You see, when I first learned that I was going to die, I just didn't want to accept it. I was so angry all the time and I struck out at everyone I loved most. Especially you, James. That's why I understand if you do hate me. But I want you to know this, James._

_I'll always love you._

_The happiest moments of my life were spent with you next to me. And I consider myself so blessed to have a man like you as my partner and best friend. Even though our life together has to end like this, I still wouldn't trade it for the world. We had some wonderful years together._

_Well, I'm running out of paper so I'll say goodbye. I told the nurse to give this to you after I'm gone. That means that as you read this, I'm already dead. I needed to know that if it happened before we could talk, my words would still reach you. I understand if you can't forgive me, but I can't bear for you to never know how sorry I am for what I said to you that day in the hospital._

_James, these last few years since I became ill... I'm so sorry for what I did to you; did to us... You've lived every day, given every moment, for me. You've given me so much and I haven't been able to return a single thing._

_That's why I want you to live for yourself now. Do what's best for you, James._

_James... You made me happy._

_My love forever,_

_Mary_

In the freezing windblown air, James stared quietly into the darkness. His mind wracked with guilt and sadness. "I had blamed everyone and everything else, but all this time, I was doing it to myself. The darkness only tormented me because I allowed it, my guilt permitted it." He gazed at Laura through shivering eyes.

"But now I've have a second chance. Laura, why did you come back for me?"

"Because..." Laura began her eyes tearing up. "Mary said that we'd be a family some day, that I could live with her and you."

James feelings welled up as an overwhelming sense of compassion burned from his dark withered soul, permitting a weak exhausted smile to purse his lips.

"I'm so sorry, Laura. Please forgive me." James embraced Laura tightly, closing his eyes. "I took Mary from you. It was wrong, and horrible. I did it out of weakness and selfishness. But now she's given us both another chance, one that I don't deserve. Now I can see all that was good in her, lives on, in you."

"What do you mean James?"

"Mary always wanted a daughter, Laura. We… It was always our dream to have a family together."

"I miss her so much James!" Laura sobbed. "Is she ever coming back?"

"No…" James responded. "She's gone. And she's not ever coming back. But, she's still with us, like an angel, watching us. She's been protecting us this whole time."

His low voice carried off for a moment. "And through it all I was so scared that meeting her again would bring something horrible, I feared confronting the truth. However, now that I know the truth, I can move on. I don't have to punished anymore. With her forgiveness, I can promise Mary that you'll never be alone again. And she'll know I won't be alone either."

"Is she really an angel?" Laura asked "Like with real wings?"

"Yes" James replied with pause, remembering the significance of the phrase that would follow. "_She is an angel"_. As he held Laura, his mind wandered back to that strange and macabre door he had found in his haunted journeys.

_No one knows, only I can see the Lady of The Door. They cannot walk along her bridge of thread. They fall from the weight of their own crimes. Like bloated and ugly corpses their sins, she devours them. Sin and sinner alike she saves me. She is an angel!_

"_Mary is an Angel_, she saved me…." James thought "She did what I couldn't do; what I could never do. She gave me the peace and forgiveness I never deserved. Once I had let go of everything that was weighing me down; once I had accepted the truth, and made peace with my judgment; she thoroughly defeated whatever the darkness could hold me by with her one act of love -her unconditional forgiveness. I have never felt more loved, felt Mary's love more, than I do now."

Walking hand in hand towards the abandoned roadway, leading out from the boarded up underpass, James and Laura began their ascent from the misty valley surrounding the ancient Lake Toluca. In his mind James found a type of peace beginning to settle over him, something that had not happened for quite some time in his life. His thoughts raced yet again, this time they were filled with hope and contemplation.

"Who knows what path this story would have taken, if I never received that letter, one cold dark evening? I would never have been subjected to the Darkness that lives in that valley. I would never have been made to suffer and had my life endangered or stability tested; my soul literally hanging in the balance."

"Then again, I might never have woken from my Dark Restless Dreams, my Dark Imaginings, my world of confusion, fear, and insanity; and I wouldn't have Laura. For all I know, I could still be at home, wondering why I can't remember the exact moment Mary died… the exact moment, _when… __**I killed her."**_


	27. Chapter 27: Rebirth-An Alternate Ending

ALTERNATE ENDING CHAPTER 27: **REBIRTH (an alternate ending)**

James lifted his eyes, to the foggy mist engulfing him. His stern eyes surveyed the imageless horizon of the early morning dawn. The sound of lapping waves on the side of his boat, the sound of distant birds in the silence of the valley, entered his swimming mind. He rowed relentlessly across the uncharted lake, his arms numb and sore.

He had become aware of the darkness, and truth. He embraced the reality of his torment, but refused to yield to it; refused to become another victim of the darkness. Instead, he would use it to serve him, as it had served many before.

Through his journeys, he had deciphered it. The code, the ancient spell, that weaved its way through this cursed valley. The Old Society, the cult, which traced its roots back to ancient times had discovered and mastered it. Now James had unearthed its secrets and laid claim to its promises.

The ritual, the ritual of the Crimson Birth, he read it. The cultists knew how to harness the dark powers. What had happened to them, to their Church? He wondered. Their black secrets lost in the mists and the judgment, were now his. He now wielded dangerous and forbidden knowledge.

Having passed through his own 'judgments', his sins now purged by the trials of the Red god, James awaited final paradise. A reward that was rightfully his. In reality James knew what this was. It would only serve as a prison a means of ultimate control, albeit one that was negotiated to his liking. Still, he did not care; it was his choice to remain after all. He cared only for the one thing he would receive in return.

"How many before me, have made this choice?" He wondered. "To sacrifice your world and your soul for the sake of the one thing you yearn and long for the most…"

Changing his posture, sitting up erect, almost tasting the mist in the air around him, James' mind connects with hers, sensing her presence and consciousness. She had arrived, and awaited him at his destination.

"Mary, you looked so peaceful. Forgive me for waking you. But without you, I just can't go on. I can't live without you, Mary."

James continued in his thoughts, as the outline of a tiny island, mysteriously appearing in the middle of this strange haunted lake began to appear like an apparition.

"This town, Silent Hill… The Old gods haven't left this place… And they still grant power to those who venerate them, to those who know how to unlock their secrets… Power to defy even death…"

"To hell with the normal world and the sad empty life I once knew. I choose the only thing that will bring you back. They promised me a place where we could spend our existence outside of the cruelties of the world in this "silent realm."

After a few long minutes, anchoring his boat to the shoreline, disappearing into the fog, James makes his way to a small house built onto a hill overlooking the small island.

"Mary, my love and my soul… Finally we are reunited, and now no force within the boundaries of time will ever separate us again."


	28. Chapter 28: Epilogue- Born From a Wish

**BORN FROM A WISH**** Epilogue**

The moist fog stained the window; she wiped it nervously with her hand, feeling the cool condensation on her palm.

"_**I can't remember my name…"**_

Shifting in her seat adjusting her skirt, she cautiously thumbed the handle on a small silver pistol.

"I stare out this window, in the empty Heaven's Night Club; I gaze out at the fog, watching as it grows thicker by the hour. How long have I been sitting here? Minutes? Hours? I can't even tell anymore."

"When I woke up, I was all alone. The town's empty, abandoned. Everyone's gone… is it because of those monsters?"

"What do I do now? I'm so confused, why can't I remember anything? The last thing I can remember is dancing, dancing late at my job and then falling asleep here in this couch."

Leaning back in her chair, she rests her head back, staring upward. "How long have I been asleep? It looks like time itself has forgotten this place, the town has been closed off, and most of the buildings are run down and boarded up. What happened, where did all the people go?"

In her mind she wanders off, and hears it. It was a sound on the edge of her hearing, a toll, almost like a bell, sounding off in the distance. Something was calling her, something deep inside of her. "I have to do something. If I just sit here, I'm going to lose my mind. Those monsters will get me; they'll kill me, if I don't find a way out of here.

So do I fight and live? Or do I sit and rot away?"

And there was that emptiness, that piercing pang in her soul. "In my heart, I can feel it. I know it's true. I have nothing left to live for. Maybe I should just cock this pistol and…" She paused. "But, I'm scared to die. I'm so afraid of pain. I don't want to be here. I have to escape somehow. But how?"

Quickly she leaps to her feet, the heels of her designer boots clicking on the hardwood floor. "I have to find someone. I don't want to be alone anymore… But is there anyone left in this town?"

Curls of wispy mist billow around her, as she moves down the empty and haunted streets. Her arms folded around her svelte and trim frame, keeping her warm in the chilled air. The fog engulfing her vision, she sees only a few dozen yards in front of her. Her eyes carefully scanning the sides of the streets, picking out fenced in homes built closely to the road. A residential area, many of the once cozy homes boarded up.

"It feels like this town has been abandoned for years, how long have I been asleep?"

Passing a two story Victorian, a shadow in the first floor bay window catches her eye.

"Is there a living person in there?"

Filled with hope, yet still cautious, the young woman approaches the spacious double doors. Pausing she grabs the heavy iron knocker and pounds on the door, twice.

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

Turning the handle slowly she pushes the door open, the door suddenly slams shut. A small yelp escapes from her mouth, as the young woman regains her composure.

"Ah… is somebody there?" She lightly taps with her fist. "Open up, if your there…"

Silence.

"Hello?" She knocks again.

"Stop it. You're disturbing me." A deep voice sharply responds from inside the house.

Putting her hand over her chest, the young woman let loose a sigh of relief. "Whew, thank god. I finally found somebody. Can you open the door?"

"…No. Go away."

"But why?"

"Is it really necessary for me to answer all of your tedious questions?"

Irritated, the young woman responded with a defiant tone. "Y,yes!"

"… Oh, I didn't know that. Interesting." The voice continued. "Look, I want to be alone. You locals just irritate me."

Gripping the door handle tightly the young woman tries the door again, it doesn't budge. "Please I just want to see another human face."

"… Hmmm, really?" The voice responded, dismissively.

"Yes! Do you know what's happening? Do you know what happened here in this town? There's no one here… just monsters."

"Yes – I - know… But so what? It has nothing to do with me. Besides, no one here means there's no one to disturb me."

"What? You mean you want to be alone in this insane asylum?"

"Yes, exactly." The voice paused with an evident sigh, the young woman turned to leave. "But how can you say that it is this town that is insane? Perhaps it is you who are insane, or maybe even both of us… hopelessly insane."

She stood still deep in her thoughts.

"Now" The voice continued. "..are you satisfied? Would you leave me alone?"

A flash of enlightenment struck her. Something fit into place. "M, my name is… it's M, mar… Mar… Maria. What's your name?"

Silence.

"Hello?" She knocks again.

"Ernest, my name is Ernest."

"Hemmingway?" She shot back?

"…I didn't know you were a comedian." The voice paused. "Now go away…"

"Ernest?…" Silence again. "I'll be back later."

Cleverly Maria left the front porch steps back peddling around to the rear of the house. She found an open window, giving her access to the first floor of the two-story Victorian.

"Ernest forgive me, but I can't be alone anymore. I have to see another human face. Maybe once you see I'm not a threat or a monster, you'll let me stay."

Standing in an empty living room, Maria gazed around a dusty linen covered chamber. Several small pieces of furniture were the only occupants of this place. Time itself had seemingly forgotten this home; it barely held any traces of habitation at all. Maria slowly traced her way across the floor, stopping at the mantle over an old slate fireplace. There placed with care gathering ages of dust and grime was a faded but once highly regarded picture framed in antiqued silver.

The picture held the image of a young child, gold auburn hair pulled back in ponytails, a joyful happy face, and a teddy bear, a blue teddy bear in her arms. Her clothes appearing a bit dated, but her smile seemed warm and overpowering burning through the ages of soot and grime now overtaking the photograph.

Picking up the framed picture, Maria gazes into the little girl's eyes. "She seems so happy and so loved… But where's Ernest? Is he alone here?"

Walking from room to room, the house appears more and more empty and haunted, dismal, and abandoned. Cobwebs, covered furniture, boarded windows, are all that find her on her quiet and somber search of Ernest's home.

Climbing the stairs; leading to the second floor, Maria kept in deep thought. "Who is Ernest? Where is he?" She had yet to see a shred of his existence anywhere in the dust-ridden first floor. The hallway at the top was equally abandoned. One door was slightly ajar.

Pushing it open, Maria finds herself in a bedroom, dressed with faded wallpaper printed with animals, a small faded bed is still neatly made with worn bed clothes gathering dust sitting timelessly upon it is a blue teddy bear with a missing eye. A small closet full of old moth eaten dresses fit for a young girl opens up in the far corner, as Maria curiously inspects the room.

Glancing behind her, taking notice of an old cracked mirror, she pauses. Staring at herself. "I look so much like her…" Maria frowned. "Like who? Who is it I look like?"

In the background of her image, for a brief instant, for only a moment, Maria swore she caught a glimpse of a small skirt and a bob of golden curl in the mirror. Turning suddenly, half startled, she searches around the room.

"Hel, hello?"

A small girlish giggle echoes down the hallway.

"He, hey wait…"

Maria followed the sound of small footsteps down the hall, through an open narrow door up another set of narrow steps up to the attic. The scent of moth balls, and must curled in her nostrils, old furniture and covered belongings littered the storage space.

"Is, is there someone up here?"

Searching the attic for many minutes, Maria became convinced that whoever she followed must have either escaped her pursuit or never come this way. Standing in front of a large gable window that had been smashed and boarded up sometime in the past, Maria's eyes took notice of an old faded piece of paper, barely visible, lodged under a rotted floorboard. Picking it up reading it, it appeared to be a letter.

"_**To My Dearest Daddy"**_

Carefully Maria Opened it.

_Daddy, _

_I love you, I'm sorry I was bad. I know you didn't mean to hit me. Please don't be mad at me. I hope you like your present. I made it myself, I only went in the attic because I hid it there. Don't be mad at me daddy_

_Happy Birthday, Love_

_Amy Porter_

"Amy Porter?" Maria paused. "I need to find Ernest." Putting the letter in her pocket, returning downstairs to the second floor, Maria sighs. "Ernest, where are you?"

Moving solemnly down the hallway, she pauses at the only door seemingly locked and closed; under it a dim flickering light could be seen dancing odd shadows from the dusty cracks. It appeared to be the door leading to the master bedroom.

Gently Maria knocks on the door. "Ernest?"

To her surprise a deep voice replies.

"What are you doing in here? I told you to go away…"

"I'm sorry, but I didn't want to be alone out there. Will you please forgive me?"

"What do you want?"

"Do you know a little girl named Amy?"

"… Why are you asking me that?"

"This letter "TO MY DEAREST DADDY"… It's from a girl named Amy Porter. You're 'Daddy'?"

"…Yes." The deep voice seemed surprised. "Where the hell did you find that?"

"It was in the attic, under an old floorboard."

A long pause followed, Maria fiddled uncomfortably, not sure what to ask next, until his voice broke the silence.

"No…now I see… What a fool… Now… when it's too late, I finally understand why. Why she was there…" Ernest's voice cracking. "Why she was holding my present in her hand when she… when she fell… Or, was she pushed? I can't remember anymore…"

"Ernest, Amy… Did she…? I'm so sorry I didn't mean to remind you."

"There is no need to apologize. You didn't remind me. I've never forgotten, that is why I am still here. But I never knew she had written me a letter… All this time and… I never knew…"

Ernest's voice paused, seemingly collecting its thoughts and his composure behind the closed bedroom door.

"Some things we forget and some things we can never forget… It's funny… sometimes I'm not sure which is sadder. It's been many years, but I still…"

"Ernest, I'm sorry. I didn't know…"

"No, it's fine… what happened… I was unable… Anyway, Maria, that letter?"

"Yes, I'll slide it under the door…"

"Thanks. Hey, Maria…?"

"Yeah?"

"You've done a very kind thing for me…"

"Well…"

"I must admit I was surprised you noticed me in the window, and could hear me at the door. I didn't think that would be possible since…"

Pausing once more, Maria puts her ear on the door listening closely to Ernest's words.

"Since we've been talking, I've realized why this was. Now I feel so sorry for you…"

"What are you talking about?"

"Maria, I want to help you… If you'll let me. It's time I stopped feeling sorry for myself, and actually did something about what's happening here. But that means facing some truth, some painful truth…"

"What do you mean? You're talking about the monsters right?"

"There was a time, when I used to care about things like that. I used to have somewhat of a purpose and a meaning in my life, I used to help people. I had almost forgotten what that was like…"

Ernest's voice drifted away, for a moment it grew quiet. "Maria, in the apartment next door, there is a bottle containing a white liquid. I don't know exactly where it is, but I know it's in there somewhere. I must have it."

"You...want me to get it for you?"

"Please..."

"Why don't you just get it yourself?"

"If I could, believe me I would but I'm just… Let's say I'm very limited…"

"...It's white, you said?"

"Yes, you can't miss it. It's rather obvious. The door should be open."

"How is this supposed to help me?"

"I can't say for certain. I'm not even sure if it will work, just don't ask me anymore questions, do this for me."

"Well, okay…" Maria suspiciously replied. "I suppose I don't mind fighting for an impossible cause anyway. It beats just giving up and doing nothing."

Speaking over her shoulder, Maria turned to leave.

"Ernest? Is this supposed to be some kind of miracle? Are their really such things as miracles?"

"…Miracles? Well…, Maria, there is God, and then there is… Silent Hill. I suppose it all depends on where you put your faith, be it good or ill."

"Yeah, maybe that's the problem."

"Who, Silent Hill, or God?"

"It doesn't matter…"

Ernest's voice paused. "I happen to know a little about God and a little about this town. Out of the two of us, I'm the only one originally from here, you know."

"You're the only one? How do you know that I'm not originally from here?"

"It's a wild guess but…"

"I'll be back with your… eh liquid"

"…thanks."

Leaving the empty house, mind swirling with thoughts and questions, Maria re-enters the dismal swallowing fog. Maria found the next house unlocked and easily accessible. With cautious nervous steps, she enters the house next door, it's empty, dusty, with mouse droppings and cobwebs. Searching around step after step inducing groaning floor board after groaning floor board, she enters a room riddled with occultist markings. Plastic sheets hanging in broken windows blow slightly in a cold breeze.

Just as Ernest had said perched atop an old dusty dining room table was an old glass vial of white silky fluid. Next to it were several other items of interest. An old open book, and a paper with charcoal sketches on it. The book and the paper were written in an undistinguishable language, some diagrams were labeled in measurements, but one phrase written in English was recognizable.

"_**To bring the spirit back to the flesh."**_

A brisk cold breeze blew through the house, a strong presence was in the room with her. Pocketing the liquid Maria quickly made her way

back outside through the mist to Ernest's room.

"Uh, Ernest… It's me Maria. I have the bottle you wanted."

"Thank you Maria. That's the only item I couldn't get myself. By the time I found out about it, I could no longer leave this house."

"Okay, well what does this mean now?"

"It means I can leave this place, I can do more than just sit here endless day after day, remembering her soft golden curls, the sound of her laughter and the softness of her footsteps in the hall."

"So now, you can leave your house?" Maria asked. "I'm not sure I fully

understand."

"You see, now I am free. My pain no longer holds me, my guilt and self-loathing, I can let go of it all now… Instead I can help others like you, or like the other one that's coming."

"The other one?"

"Yes, I knew you would know something about that….you know he's coming don't you Maria?'

"I… I don't… know…"

"Anyway, you should leave him alone, Maria. That would be best, trust me."

"Yes, but will..."

"I should go now, so long…" Ernest's voice interrupted.

"But.. .wait. There's still so much I don't understand."

"Maria, the dark gods are here."

There was a long pause.

"…I'm not sure "God" is the right word." Maria replied.

"You can feel it can't you? It's planted in you, after all you were born in this town, even though you're not originally from here."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Do you believe in God?"

"Not really."

"That's fine then."

"Ernest, can you open this door at least?"

"I've never allowed anyone in here before. Inside are many bad memories. Besides it's a dead end. You won't find anything useful in here."

Getting nowhere, Maria changed her tone "So... What if I had said I believed in God?"

"That man James, he's a done a bad thing…"

"James?" Maria's mind suddenly filling with images and thoughts. "How do I know that name? Yes, I know… He's done something, something horrible…."

"You know just like I know. You can feel him; hear the dark whispers around you. He's coming here; you were brought here for him. He's looking for the you, that really isn't you. You're a just a reflection, but there is always a choice, allow him to suffer through this by himself. Perhaps that would be the better way…"

Holding her head in her hands, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I know…" She sobs. "I know… Somehow I know it all… But still I'll make it work; I'll make him love me. He'll forget all about her, I'll become her for him. He'll love me, and we'll be together..."

"… It's beginning." Ernest's voice interrupted.

"I don't care what you say! We were meant to be together, I won't let you tear us apart! NO! I WON'T. I love James!"

"I'm so sorry…" Ernest replied. "But I won't sit back and let you take that man with you. Unlike both of us there is still a chance that one might be saved."

"Because, you think he's a good person?! Or worthy or forgiveness?" Maria scathed. "Do you think you know something, I don't!?"

"_You're just a dream born from a wish_." Ernest paused. "The dark…"

"Anyway, that's just what you think." Maria cut him off. "Who the hell do you think you are anyway? You don't really know anything. And I've had enough of this talking through doors!"

With a sudden heave Maria forces her way through the bedroom door. With a thud it flies open. But the room is empty and bare; only dust and sheet covered furniture lined with dust and grime occupy the room. Not a single sign of disturbance or footprint in the soft dust was visible in the dim light.

"Ernest? Where are you?" Maria's heart began pounding. "What's going on? Am I crazy?"

Empty. A cold chill pursed up her spine, her anger subsiding. Feelings of loneliness and abandoned assailed her again. "Am I all alone? Who was I speaking too?"

A small table remained, the only item in the room to rebuff the onslaught of dust that had overtaking the chamber. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling as she approached the table, there was no sign of disturbance in the room, the chamber was dark, small shards of light broke through the boarded up windows.

There were several items on the desk. A book, written in some foreign language possibly Latin, a large black burning candle burning with a sickly sweet incense, a carved stone goblet, a ivory handled knife, and the vial of white liquid that she had brought Ernest. Neatly placed off to the side, a small scrap of worn paper caught her eye written in faded blue ink.

_You'll live again_

_No one shall sever_

_Here you are young_

_Once more_

_Together…_

"So this is your secret." Maria mused scanning the contents of the table. "What is all this? Is this how you plan to help… It doesn't matter.

Not anymore…" Leaving the mysterious contents alone, Maria's eyes found one last point of interest in the empty room. An old faded news article neatly folded lying on an old desk collecting dust with the rest of the room.

LOCAL CLERGYMAN COMMITTS SUICIDE

The local congregation of The First Methodist Church of the Brethren is in shock this holiday weekend asking themselves the question "why?". Why a man who meant so much to his congregation, and so much to the people whose lives he seemingly touched would take his own life.

The body of beloved Reverend Ernest Porter was found hanging in the second story study of his home, late Friday evening. Police officers on the scene discovered his lifeless body strung up on the rafters of his 19th century Victorian ceiling. A single word was carved into his oak desk with a pen knife, his daughter's name, Amy.

An apparent suicide, detectives are still investigating the case. According to reports the local minister had become reclusive and his behavior increasingly erratic following the tragic death of his seven year old daughter, Amy Porter.

Though the investigation into his daughter's death has officially closed, questions still abound as to the details of the accident. Leaving many to question the dark thoughts and intense pain hidden behind the warm smile of a tortured widower; who died broken-hearted and alone.

Glancing downward from the yellowing crumbling article in her hands, her eyes scanning the desk holding the items. Moving the bowl, rubbing dust, her small fingers find the grooves carved into its top so many years ago. Running the tips over them, she traces Amy's name with her fingers.

"…N, no…" Stuttering Maria gasps in shock. "It can't be. If you're just a… then what am I? Who am I?"

_You're just a dream born from a wish_

Ernest's words hung in her head like the lingering tone of a bell.

Standing perfectly still Maria stared in absolute silence, catatonic. Her mind melding, and twisting. Her thoughts and feelings reaching out connecting to the darkness, to the town, to him…

Yes indeed she could feel him now, feel him strongly. The one she had been made for, the one whose deepest wishes had willed her into existence. There paths were closing, quickly. But was this what she truly wanted? Were her feelings truly her own? But in the end did all that really matter?

"I… am nobody, and I'm…all alone…"

Deep inside her, she knew she had no meaning, no purpose for life. She had no mother, no father, no family, no childhood, but she did have him. It was all she could strive for and hope for. In that man, that bad man, she would find happiness, she would find meaning. She would have a purpose, she would be alive and real and she would be loved.

It would require a lot to acquire him, to tame his love. She would have to seize it from the other 'her'. She would have to kill the other 'her'. It would be worth it though, the love of that man, that bad man with the kind heart. 'She' lived heavily protected deep in the heart of that man, and he guarded 'her' like a fortress. She would have to break that man, draw 'her' out, and kill 'her'. Then, and only then would his heart be truly free.

Walking down the narrow streets down the roads, his will guided her, his thoughts were like voices in the lake-valley that now talked to her, leading her to the Rosewater Park. She made quick time, guiding herself through the dense mist, in the back of her mind she could almost feel his presence approaching.

But the warnings of Ernest kept repeating in her thoughts. "Leave him alone…" They kept telling her. She knew that something more than her own free-will was dictating events, she could feel the flow of the current pushing her towards this meeting of fate. "Am I just a puppet? Are my feelings really my own? Do I even have a choice?"

Pausing, Maria pulls out the slender silver pistol. "If what Ernest said is true, how can I truly know any decision I make is really my own free will choice?" Contemplating for a long minute, she puts the pistol to her head. "There is only one answer, only one real choice… I can't bear to be alone anymore." She hoarsely mutters aloud as she cocks the pistol. "I choose to end it right here…"

A tear rolling down her cheek she clenches her eyes tight staring out at the rolling waves overlooking the walkway at Rosewater Park. Suddenly the sound of footsteps echoes in the thick fog, Maria freezes lowering the pistol. They grow closer, with a free hand she wipes her face, then the footsteps stop.

"M, Mary?..."

Gently turning dropping the pistol over the side, into the water, Maria turns to face James. With bright blue eyes, she gazes into his face.

Taking careful notice of his features she saw a tall man in his early to mid thirties with close cut brown hair, dark eyes, and a grave face. His expression; sullen eyes, a furrowed brow, and narrow lips, seemed to carry the weight of a lifetime of grief and tragedy, but there was a spark behind it, a resolute stubbornness that seemed to defy any idea of surrender or capitulation.

"No... You're not." James hung his head dejectedly.

Staring at James, he was everything the dark powers had promised her. She desired him, more than her own life; whatever her life was.

"Do I look like your girlfriend?" She answered coyly, her heart stirring within her chest.

"No..." He responded. "My late wife. I can't believe it. You could be her twin. Your face, your voice... Just your hair and clothes are different."

"My name... is Maria."

THE END


	29. A Brief Overview and Explanation

Hello everyone,

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it.

I took great pains to make sure the information within this story lines up properly with the cannon of the Silent Hill game universe. Granted many details surrounding the nature of the Silent Hill world are still hotly debated among devoted fans of the series. The basic understanding of the town and its haunted forms, as presented in this story, represents the most widely accepted view. However certain issues surrounding the specific nature of the "darkness" that haunts the land (where it came from why it's there) it's mechanics (how it works, what are the rules it operates by), the cult that operates within the town, and it's deity, are not openly addressed. This was done on purpose with the idea that "less is more." Spending too much time delving into the "how" and over explaining the details of the realm would just serve to "de-mystify" it.

With that said I will provide an insight into the story I have written. This will attempt to help answer and address lingering questions about the town and the characters in my story.

**SIDENOTE:**_ I incorporated a lot of symbolism in my story, via dialogue and description. Those familiar with Judeo/Christian theologies, might recognize some of the imagery and symbolism. Some of you may recognize the philosophical issues James contemplates and the internal dialogues he has with himself, they are well known iconic arguments of morality and truth, that philosophers and religious leaders have furiously batted around for centuries. And some of you may recognize the signs of psychological disorders and the tell tale signs of 'psychosis' inherent within James and many of the characters. Mental illness is a vastly growing epidemic in modern society, and it's vague inclusion seems wholly appropriate in my story._

**Answers to common questions about the storyline.**

Silent Hill is a fictional town, that exists somewhere in Maine (in consistency with the series canon). It houses roughly 30,000 residents, and though it's tourism has slowed down considerably over the years, it was once a well-traveled sleepy resort town. The place where the events of the Silent Hill games takes place is a type of dimension or spirit world that exists in two varying forms which can oscillate back and forth depending on the circumstance and the person experiencing it.

The primary form is the misty realm inhabited by spirits and is known as "Fog World or Other World". Fog World seems an eerie mirror reflection of the real town of Silent Hill, and though it isn't inherently evil or hostile it can still be quite dangerous to those who enter it unprepared. The secondary form is the insane horrifying realm known as "nowhere", or "nightmare world" and can best be described as a nightmare gone insane. This form of Silent Hill is exceedingly dangerous, and terrifying.

The place where James becomes lost in, and where almost the entirety of the story takes place, is this very same spirit realm where your memories, thoughts, feelings, regrets and guilt all come alive. Therefore this place will appear differently to each person. Those who enter the realm tainted by their own sins or holding on to intense pain and guilt will find themselves drowning in the dark hellish world that begins to surround them.

What they see and what happens to them is determined by the memories, feelings, regrets etc. that get reflected back. There are also some things that exist inside the realm that may actually call to people they have a knowledge of. The way I choose to interpret it within my story was that something inside the "Otherworld" remembered James and Mary because of their connection with the town so many years ago, and when James drove to the town in a psychotic episode thinking Mary may still be alive, the "Otherworld" opened up and swallowed him.

The tell-tale sign of being sucked into the haunted Silent Hill realm is the mist and fog. As far back as the history of the town goes, the mist and fog have always been a sign of the "other realm" and the natives always associated it with the spirits who live in the valley. In a sense they are the first sign that you could be in a really bad situation. So James entered into the alternate realm sometime either before pulling into the rest stop at the beginning or on the trail he walked to get into Silent Hill as the fog poured in around him.

As for Maria, she was basically a spirit or demon from the spirit realm who appeared in a form based on James's intense desire to see his wife again. In fact all the creatures and monsters James saw during the story were actually demons or spirits; they weren't illusions, they were very real but they simply assumed the form his mind, feelings and memories choose for him. In this case, Maria was given form based on James's idealized concept of how the perfect Mary would be... sexy, bold, aggressive, utterly worshipful of him etc...

Maria started off as a sweet innocent character in the story, but her personality later became warped by James's other memories of Mary -the one's he had twisted to sub-consciously justify his act of murder. His reinvention of truth painted his crime as something Mary had pushed him to, something that she actually wanted, and therefore it wasn't his fault. If you noticed, Maria became more and more sarcastic, possessive, and showed signs of passive aggression towards James as the story went along. This was also the result of his attempt to falsely view Mary as a hateful bitch that he had to hide away in the back bedroom. As a result Maria began to manifest those traits as a result.

When Maria was first created, most likely as James was walking towards the town, her new form completely consumed whatever she once was (demon spirit, ghost etc). Therefore she only had memories and understandings that the "idealized version of Mary" would have, because of this she had no knowledge of anything outside of being Maria. It's possible she may have been the consciousness that had remembered James and summoned him here in the first place, for the purpose of becoming his "perfect Mary". Of course Maria would have no knowledge of this because becoming Maria would completely consume and overwrite whatever she once was.

During the story Maria spent much of her time away from James, struggling to understand everything about the realm and her true nature. I know I didn't explore much of this, but I didn't want to reveal too much about the ending. For those unfamiliar with the story, it would loose it's effect and shock value if I had dropped continuous hints and revelations throughout. Plus I wanted it to be Mary and James's story, so I focused everything entirely from his perspective. That's why I choose to keep Maria's self exploration and keep the nature of her existence a secret till the end.

By the time the ending began, Maria had nearly gained a full knowledge about what was really going on and about her true nature. In the end Maria was consumed by her obsessive desire for James and wanted him for herself. The only way she would get that was if she kept James from leaving the realm and the only way to do that was to keep him confused and in denial, and not let him reconcile with Mary's spirit. When James ultimately rejected her, the final stage of her personality was revealed, she became enraged and violent (just as James envisioned Mary being), and morphed into a demonic form and tried to kill him.

Maria was a tragic figure, but not one that was innocent or blameless. She was a willing participant in tormenting James, and she worked continuously to confuse him and keep him from defeating the darkness in Silent Hill. Though James killed her, he didn't hate her. He just realized that she had become dangerous and would never willingly permit him to leave the "Otherworld". Despite her pleadings and her intense desire for him to love her, he had to make the nightmare end.

I didn't expressly tell you in the story, but Laura is a runaway from a foster home. In my story, Laura had met Mary and James during a prolonged stay at the same hospital Mary was being treated at. But James doesn't remember her, because of his psychotic state and the darkness fogging his mind.

Eddie the young guy that James killed in the prison, was running from the cops after he shot someone. He was working as a janitor in the same elementary school Laura attended. He was hiding at the school where he worked when Laura found him . When he told her he was going to runaway, Laura suggested that they both should go to Silent Hill, because that's where she thought Mary had gone.

Eddie also had an unknown but strong connection with Silent Hill, and he became trapped in the "Otherworld" too. Laura was also drawn into the spirit realm because of her connection to Mary and James, and her association with Eddie (they both drove there together). However, Eddies Silent Hill was far different than Laura's. Eddie was tormented by demons and monsters just like James and Angela, but Laura experienced a fairly pleasant and warm version of Silent Hill because of her innocence and pure heart. Which is why she's often confused by James when he asks her why she's alone, and how come she's not afraid of the dark. Laura never saw the twisted demonic things that the others did. Instead Laura was led on a constant wild-goose chase brought to life from her desire to find Mary, because that's what she desperately wanted deep inside.

In my story, the character Ernest was once a man who lived in the real town of Silent Hill. He was a Pastor who developed a violent temper after his wife died for some unknown reason. Then a few years later his daughter died in a tragic accident falling from the attic window in their house. It was widely whispered that Ernest's temper was responsible for both deaths. Following his daughters death, Ernest began to unravel and began to isolate himself within his house, locking himself inside the second story study for weeks at a time. There he slowly went insane, and something inside of the "Otherworld" began to call to him. Rather than face his demons, and confront the truth of what he had done, he like James choose suicide. Only in his case there wasn't someone else there to step in and intervene for him.

Mary, was real. James had summoned her spirit when he entered the Otherworld. She followed his call and remembered his promise to take her back (to Silent Hill) again. And she waited for him in the Otherworld's Lakeview Hotel, but Maria and the darkness kept her hidden until James was able to overcome both. In the end Mary was able to tell James everything she had wanted to say, and James was able to reconcile with her and thus let go, which is what ultimately freed him from the Otherworld.

In the end Mary proved that James's perceptions of her were wrong. That she wasn't hateful, vindictive, or some kind of monster. That everything that James had convinced himself about her to make him feel justified in murdering her was flawed. That she was only angry and hurt because of her fear of dying and the way James withdrew from her the sicker she got. At the end she didn't care that he had murdered her, she was going to die soon enough anyway. She was only hurt because his act of violence against her was the ultimate rejection. The one thing that said more than anything else could "I hate you! I want you out of my way! I want my life back!".

But Mary ultimately forgave him, and took pity of his plight and suffering. His journey to get to her showed Mary how much he truly loved her, and how sorry he was for betraying her.


End file.
